Train to Kill
by WildFlower084
Summary: A new case, a new type of relationship. While working on the biggest case of their lives, our favorite couple take their first attempt at a relationship together. Semisequel to Remember Our Promise. [FULL SUMMARY IN PROLOGUE!]
1. Prologue: The Woman in the Basement

**A/N: Hey kiddies! Here is my latest Bones fic. A few things before we start. This fic is a semi-sequel to "Remember Our Promise?" but can also stand alone so you don't really need to have read the other story to understand this one. Also, this fic will sort of be AU, meaning that even though season 2 will have started while I'll be writing this story, none of what will be happening in season 2 will be present in this story (was that clear enough or is everybody confused by this sentence? I know I am. Then again, it is 1:05 am at the moment!).**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the OCs.**

**Summary: When Theresa Bingham is found dead at the bottom of her basement stairs, her husband, William Bingham, is immediately arrested under suspicion of manslaughter. But Bingham swears he is innocent. Booth takes on the case to find out what truly happened. Soon, more bodies are turning up dead. And while Bones and Booth are thrown into the case of their lives, our favorite pair take their first attempt at a relationship together.**

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Sirens blasted through the streets of Washington on this quiet afternoon of October. Cars pulled aside to let the police cars speed by and several pedestrians stopped in their tracks to eye them with mild curiosity.

Inspector Eric Fromm had _his_ eyes fixed on the road ahead of him, his senses alert and aware of every tiny detail around him. He saw the black car stop at the intersection to let him through and saw, in his rear-view mirror, that his partner almost hit another car coming from the opposite direction as he turned onto the avenue. Fromm shook his head. His partner had always been such a reckless driver.

The call had come in a few minutes earlier. The body of a woman had been found in the basement of her home. The husband had immediately called 911. Fromm had picked up the call, along with two other units. 4578 Rosbury Way. A vague sense of familiarity had swept through the agent as he had read the address the first time. He had been called to that same street a few weeks earlier, he was sure of it.

Fromm looked up to the street sign and quickly made a right. Rosbury Way was only two corners away. He slowed down. Residential areas were not a place to be speeding. Making a left, he turned onto Rosbury Way.

Another patrol car was already present, yellow duct-tape had already been unrolled and secured the area. Nosy neighbors had stepped out on their front porch and more were joining them as Fromm parked his vehicle behind his colleague's. His partner did the same behind him.

The two men got out of the respective car, Fromm nodding curtly at his partner. The two of them made their way to the entrance of the house, where they were met by their other colleague.

"What have we got here?" Fromm asked, shifting into investigating mode.

The officer flipped his notebook open.

"Theresa Bingham, 51 years old. Found dead at the bottom of the stairs in her basement. We're just waiting for the coroner to get here to have a complete examination of the body but, from the looks of it, the woman was strangled."

"How do you know?" Fromm's colleague asked.

"The strangulation marks are pretty obvious."

"Who made the call?"

The officer checked his notes.

"The husband. William Bingham. He's sitting in the living room if you wish to talk to him."

The second officer was about to walk in when Fromm stopped him.

"Let me handle it." He told his colleague before stepping inside the house.

He found Bingham exactly where the other officer had told him: sitting on his couch, his face livid, shaking lightly. Fromm introduced himself to the older man. Bingham nodded.

"Can I sit down?" Fromm asked.

Bingham pointed to a loveseat in response. Fromm sat down.

"I just need to ask you a few routine questions. It shouldn't take long."

"I already did that." Bingham answered, slightly annoyed.

"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Bingham. My colleague has asked you a few questions. Now I'd like to hear it for myself. Do you mind?"

Bingham shrugged.

"When had been the last time you had seen your wife, Mr. Bingham?"

"This morning." The man answered with a loud sigh. "We had breakfast together. I told her I had to go buy garbage bags at the store since we wanted to rake the leaves in our backyard. She told me she would go out and do some errands before lunch. She left before me."

"And what time was that?" Fromm asked, jotting down the man's story.

"Slightly after nine."

"And what time did you leave?"

"I don't know. Nine-thirty. Ten o'clock. I didn't really check the time. I just left."

Fromm nodded before motioning to continue.

"When I came back, I found the door to the house unlocked. My wife's car was in the driveway so I knew that she was home. But I also knew something was wrong because Theresa always locked the doors when she was home alone."

"What did you do after you noticed that your door was unlocked?"

"I called out her name." Bingham answered, as if stating the obvious. "I called her name a couple of times but she doesn't answer me. I went to look upstairs and when I didn't find her, I decided to check the basement. That's when I found her. She was laying unsconscious at the bottom of the stairs. There was a puddle of water beside her and she looked like she had been strangled."

"Did you move the body at all, Mr. Bingham?"

"No! Of course not!" The man replied, offended. "I know better than to do that."

"And what time was it when you came back?"

"Eleven."

Fromm frowned.

"Your call came in at 12:05. Why wait so long before calling the police?"

Bingham shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I didn't know what to do. I panicked." He admitted after a few seconds of silence. "Then I decided to check the entire house to see if someone else had been in here and if they had stole anything. Then I went out in the backyard to smoke a cigarette. I needed to calm down. After that, I went back downstairs, like to make sure that my wife was really dead."

"And it's only after doing all of that that you called the police?"

The man gulped and nodded. Fromm jotted down a few notes in his notebook before standing up.

"Could you please show me the way to your basement?"

Binghman nodded before getting up himself. He led the man down the hallway to the staircase leading to the basement. From the top of the stairs, Fromm could hear voices coming from the room below. The inspector figured the coroner had arrived during his interview with Bingham.

As he walked down the stairs, several heads looked up. Fromm immediately recognized the coroner's, Michelle Loughlin, and the ones from her colleagues. A photograph stood behind the coroner. Fromm introduced himself. The photograph did the same.

"Mind if I look around, Mitch?" Fromm asked the woman as he circled the area where the body laid.

"Not at all."

The photograph took pictures as Fromm examined his surroundings.

The body of Theresa Bingham had been found in a medium-sized room serving as a small living room. In front of him stood a door, leading to what Fromm believed to be a laundry room. A basket of clothes laid on its side a few feet away from the stairs. Clothes were scattered around it.

_So Mrs Bingham had been on her way to do some laundry._ Fromm thought to himself.

An empty bucket stood beside the overturned basket. Fromm frowned. Bingham had said that water had surrounded his wife. The inspector looked down. The cement was in fact grayer where the victim laid.

"Something isn't right here."

The voice of Loughlin brought the inspector back to reality.

"What's not right?" Fromm asked the coroner.

Loughlin was kneeling over the body, her eyes focused on the victim's face.

"Mr. Bingham, how did you say you found your wife?" Loughlin asked, as she stood up.

Fromm looked up to find Bingham standing at the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't even noticed that the older man had followed him down.

"I found her laying on her stomach right where you see her."

His voice was calm. It was Fromm's turn to frown.

"Are you sure, Mr. Bingham?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Loughlin crossed her arms in front of her chest. A smile tugged at Froom's lips. He had worked so many times with this woman. He knew what was coming.

"So you mean to tell me that you found her dead, face down on the cement floor? Yet, the skin on her face is wrinkled, kind of like when a person spends too much time in the water."

"My wife was an old woman."

"How old?"

"51."

"Too young to have wrinkles." Loughlin replied.

Then, turning to Fromm, she said:

"It's a bit too early to make it official but by the looks of it, the victim was strangled then drowned in the bucket that you see over here. The face shows signs of drowning."

Fromm nodded. He casted one more glance around the room before turning back to Bingham. Now that Loughlin had pointed out an anomaly, Fromm could see that something else also didn't fit. The room showed no signs of struggle.

"Did you clean up around here?" He asked the man.

Fromm was pretty sure he had seen Bingham shift nervously.

"Because by the looks of it, your wife was a pretty strong woman. I'm pretty sure that if she had been attacked, she would have fought back. But right now, I'm seeing a pretty clean room."

Bingham glanced nervously at the other officers, then to the coroner and back to the inspector. He cleared his throat.

"The room was a mess. I cleaned up a bit. I mopped up the floor. There was a small trace of blood."

He pointed to a dark grey patch on the floor.

Fromm looked over at his partners and nodded. The two other officers seemed to read his mind. Fromm grabbed his handcuffs.

"Mr. Bingham, I'm putting you under arrest under suspicion of manslaughter."

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Cullen jogged down the corridor he knew too well. How many times had he had to come down here, in younger days at the FBI, to interrogate a suspect? But today, he wasn't here to interrogate anybody. He had been requested here.

Anger boiled in his veins. What had his friend done _now_ that had sent him to the Washington Police Department? Had he lost his temper and hit his wife? Cullen knew that the police had been over a few times to the Bingham residence for domestic disturbance. Had the disturbance gone out of hand?

He stopped at the secretary's desk and asked for Inspector Fromm. The woman told him to take a seat. He did.

He waited only a few seconds before a salt-and-pepper haired man walked out of a room. The older man walked up to Cullen. Cullen extended his hand.

"Inspector Fromm?" Cullen asked. "Deputy Director Cullen."

"Follow me." Fromm said after shaking the deputy's hand.

Cullen followed the inspector to the small room he had seen him come out of. The inspector shut the door behind him and Cullen took a seat, his eyes never leaving his friend.

"What have you done this time?" Cullen asked.

"Nothing. I swear."

"Well can you tell me why you're here then?"

"They think I killed Theresa."

Cullen chuckled.

"Unbelievable, Will. Unbelievable." Cullen said as he shook his head.

"Come on, you have to believe me." Bingham said, gripping the edge of the table and leaning forward. "I didn't do it."

"Okay, okay, calm down. Start form the top."

Bingham did. He told his story for what he felt was the hundredth time that day. Cullen simply listened. He didn't interrupt his friend by asking questions. He just listened. When Bingham was done, Cullen sunk back in his chair and shook his head once more in disbelief.

"You've really done it this time." Cullen said.

"But you believe me, right?" Bingham asked, hopeful to have someone on his side.

"I don't know what to believe, Will. Your history, it just won't help you. The cops will only think that you finally lost it and killed your wife in a moment of anger."

"But I didn't." Bingham repeated, desperately. "I wasn't even home when all of that occured. I was out."

"Can your alibi check out?"

Bingham shook his head. Cullen chuckled.

"Tell you what I'm going to do. I'll get my best agent on the case. His name is Seeley Booth. There's no better agent than him. He'll get to the bottom of this. If you're really innocent, you'll walk out of here a free man. But if you're not, don't expect any sympathy from him or me. You got it?"

Bingham nodded. Cullen got up and walked out the room.

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"Oh come on, Bones. You had fun." Booth said as they walked out of the coffee shop.

Temperance rolled her eyes.

"Fine, Booth. I had fun."

She turned around to face him and felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She sighed as Booth pulled her closer.

"I thought we said we were going to take this slow." Temperance said as she was pulled closer to her partner.

"I know." Booth replied, softly. "But this is like our third date. I'm entitled to a bit more than just hand holding."

Temperance brought her arms around her neck.

"Third date already?"

"Yeah. Time flies by when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

"It sure does."

Booth smiled briefly at her before leaning in closer. Temperance's eyes fluttered close and her lips parted in anticipation. She felt her partner's warm breath and she knew he was close. Their lips had been about to meet when a humming sound interrupted them.

Groaning softly, Booth shot his partner an apologetic look before snatching his cellphone from his belt.

"Booth." He stated, a little annoyed.

"Booth, it's Cullen. I have a favor to ask you."

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So, what do you think? Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 1: The Body in the Ditch

**Chapter 1 - The Body in the Ditch**

A bell chimed above their heads as Temperance and Booth stepped in the restaurant. Taking a quick scan, Temperance immediately saw that the restaurant was crowded and was about to turn to Booth to ask if they should perhaps consider another restaurant when a young hostess approached them.

"Hi, my name is Sally." The young woman said. "Are you waiting to be seated?"

"Yes." Booth replied, glancing briefly into the restaurant. "Will this take long? We're on our lunch break."

Sally chuckled.

"Actually, I just happen to have one table for two left. So if you two would just follow me."

Grabbing two menus, the young woman led them to a table in the middle of the restaurant. She set the menus on the table before telling them she'd be back with water in a minute. The couple nodded.

They both sat down and Booth immediately grabbed his menu. As he opened it, he heard giggles eminating from the person across from him. He looked up from the booklet.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"Hungry?" She replied, raising both eyebrows.

"Perhaps. Chasing you around would make any man hungry."

Temperace gaped.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Seeley Booth?" She asked, only half-mad.

Reaching over the table, he rested his hand over hers. His thumb drew lazy circle on the top of her hand. He smiled tenderly at her.

"It means that I'm happy we're doing this." He replied, his eyes never leaving hers.

Temperance felt herself blush under his gaze and immediately drew her hand away. She cleared her throat before grabbing the menu.

"Do you know what's good here?" She asked.

Booth pulled his hand away, feeling slightly rejected.

"I don't know." He replied harshly.

He scanned absently his own menu. Why did she always have to do this? Every time he thought he was making progress with her, she went and closed herself from him. He knew that it was her way of dealing when things could too overwhelming for her. That thought cheered him up a little.

He looked up from his menu to find her staring at him once again.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, Bones. I'm fine."

Temperance nodded and the couple both went back to their menu.

When they had finally ordered and had received their food, Temperance immediately inquired about the interview between her partner and William Bingham. Booth snorted.

"The guy's innocent, Bones. He didn't do it."

"What makes you say that?" Temperance asked, taking a bite of chicken. "I thought all the evidence pointed to him?"

"What evidence? The guy has nothing pointing to him. The only thing that is against him is the fact that he cleaned up a crime scene and 'forgot' to mention it to the inspector when he was interrogated. It doesn't mean he did it."

He paused, taking a sip from his water.

"I talked to the coroner. What was her name? Loughlin?"

"Yes. Dr. Loughlin."

"Yeah well, I talked to her and she told me her side of the story. I saw the body, saw the marks on the neck. Bingham had big hands. The hands that strangled Mrs Bingham were small to medium size."

"So you're basing your opinion on the suspect's hands?"

"I guess. You look like you don't believe me?"

"I don't know, Booth. This story just seems too weird. The man found his wife dead in their basement, cleaned up the crime scene, lied about it and, from what the report said, took nearly an hour before calling an ambulance and the police. Based on these evidences, I'd say he's guilty."

"You're neglecting the evidences on the body. You know, for a forensic anthropologist, I'm surprised."

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me." She said, teasingly.

Booth shrugged, a smile spreading over his face.

"What do you want to do tonight? I was thinking maybe dinner and a movie."

"I don't really feel like going out."

"Okay... So how about dinner and a movie at my place? I'll cook."

"You cook?" Temperance asked, surprised.

"Yes ma'am."

Temperance tilted her head, as if considering his proposition. She smiled at him.

"Sure. Why not."

Booth grinned. He had been about to reply when the faint sound of music reached his ears. Excusing himself to his partner, he grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Booth." He said.

He listened quietly at what the person on the other side of the line told him. Glancing briefly at Temperance, he replied:

"Okay. We'll be right there."

Hanging up, he turned his attention back to Temperance.

"Looks like we might have to reschedule this dinner and movie deal."

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Thick gray clouds gathered across the sky and rain started to pour the second Booth drove out of the city. Groaning, he turned on his wipers in hopes of clearing his windshield.

"Not our day, huh?" Booth said, taking his eyes briefly off the road to look at his partner.

"Booth, the road." Temperance replied, annoyed.

How she hated when he didn't look in front of him when he was driving.

Booth was forced to slow down two minutes after the first raindrop. Mist covered his window, thick ropes of rain prevented him from seeing twelve inches in front of him. Turning on his brights, he just hoped nobody was coming their way.

"How far out of the city was the body found?" Temperance asked after a few minutes of silence.

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Booth replied:

"About five or ten miles. Fromm told me that they'd be easy to spot. Apparently, half a dozen cars showed up at the scene. Loughlin's already there but she said that your expertise will be needed."

Temperance shifted in her seat, excitedly.

"You mean it's not a corpse?" She asked, delighted.

Booth chuckled lightly.

"It's not a corpse, Bones. You happy?"

"Like a fish in the sea." Temperance replied before turning her attention back to her window.

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What should have taken Booth five minutes actually took fifteen. But finally, he was able to make out the police lights ahead of him. He slowed down once more before coming to a stop behind the last police car gathered on the road.

Temperance was the first one out of the car. Opening the back door, she quickly took out her bag and walked towards the crowd. Booth followed behind her.

A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair met them halfway.

"Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth." He said, nodding politely. "The body is over here." He added, bringing his attention on Temperance.

Temperance nodded before walking off in the skeleton's direction. The rain continued to pour. A strand of hair stuck diagonally across her face. Her bag felt heavy on her shoulder, mud squished under her steps. Finally, she reached it. Even through the rain, she could tell the victim had been dead for a while, making her wonder how come nobody has noticed it before.

She let herself fall into the ditch, a few steps away from the remains. She crouched and began her examination.

The skeleton was complete. Every bone was accounted for and in proper order. A few bones were marked and Temperance had yet to determine their origins. Looking up at Booth, she told him what she could learn from it at that moment.

"Male, approximately in his mid-twenties and definitely caucasian. I'd set the time of death at about one or two months but a thoroughly examination should determine a more precise death."

"So you want to bring the skeleton in?"

Temperance nodded.

"Well aren't you going to help me?" She asked, looking expectantly at him.

"I'm not getting in there, Bones."

"That's right. The suit. Wouldn't want to get it dirty." She replied.

Booth rolled his eyes before calling an officer over to assist his partner. He watched as Temperance climbed out of the ditch and walked back to the SUV. His eyes followed her every movement and he felt his heart race faster in his chest. He still couldn't believe it: he was dating Dr. Temperance Brennan. Even after four dates, everything still felt unreal.

They hadn't kissed after the conversation in the park two months ago but he could honestly say that their relationship had changed that night. They had started seeing more of each other outside of work but Booth couldn't call that dating. They had simply talked on the phone a few times, gone out to Sid's or a movie, gone for a walk when Temperance hadn't been able to sleep.

Then, one day, he had gathered his courage and had asked her out on a date. Surprisingly, she had said yes and they had been inseparable ever since. Not that Booth was surprised. She was his best friend and soon to be his official girlfriend. His gut feeling told him so.

He snapped back to reality when he felt someone punch his arm.

"You're daydreaming." Temperance stated.

"I know. I was thinking about you."

Temperance blushed.

"Yeah, right." She replied, looking down at her feet.

He lifted her chin.

"I really was."

She had been about to reply when a voice beside them brought them out of their little world.

"That's very touching you guys but we have some work to do." Fromm said as he approached the couple.

"Right. Work." Temperance replied, shifting into professional mode.

She jumped back into the ditch and began getting ready to transfer the skeleton from his grassy bed and into a new, plastic one.


	3. Chapter 2: The Shelleys

**A/N: As usual, thank you to everyone who reviewed.**

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**Chapter 2: The Shelleys**

Booth jogged in the Medico-Lab the following morning to find his partner and her whole team working on the skeleton found in the ditch. His gaze locked with his girlfriend and he immediately became oblivious to everything around him. They hadn't had their date the previous night. He had dropped her off at the museum before heading home. It had been the first evening they hadn't spent together since they had started dating. He had missed her.

He failed to notice the look of curiosity on Angela's face and the looks of confusion on the other two men as Temperance took a few steps towards him. Booth scanned himself onto the platform before meeting his partner half-way in the stairs. He greeted her normally, or what he thought was normally, before climbing the rest of the stairs and stopping in front of the examination table.

"So, who have we got here?" Booth asked as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

His question brought Temperance back into her profession mode.

"My diagnosis hasn't really changed since yesterday. The victim is a white male in his mid- to late twenties. He stood at about 5'9". Angela is working on a face reconstruction at this very moment."

Booth turned to Angela who gave him a thumb's up.

"The picture should be done in about fifteen minutes." She informed him.

"That's great." Booth replied. Then turning to Temperance, he added: "What else?"

"The death was caused by strangulation. Injury of the hyoid bone showed just that. The skull is also partially damaged which brings me to think that the victim was hit at the back of the head by something, just before being strangled."

Temperance paused for a split second.

"The body was killed on the road then dragged into the ditch where he was hidden for about a month."

Booth nodded and decided that he had heard enough.

"Okay, so Angela, once your drawing is done, just fax it over to my office. I'll take a look at it and try to see if I can't match it to any names in the missing person's database."

Angela agreed. Booth thanked the team for their work before walking back towards the sliding doors. He had other things to do, including a meeting with his boss in thirty minutes.

He heard foosteps behind him and knew instinctively who it was. He let a small smile creep on his face before turning around to find his partner walking towards him. He fought the urge to simply gather her in his arms. After all, they were in a public place _and_ at his girlfriend's work. He didn't want to risk any injuries.

"Sorry about last night." Temperance said, lowering her voice to make sure nobody heard them.

Booth had been more disappointed when Temperance had told him of her want to work on the skeleton the previous night. He had been far from happy to cancel their date but had understood Temperance's desire of working on her new remains. He had been able to see it in her eyes. On the plus side, Booth had been able to work on the Bingham case which, he had to be honest with myself, hadn't brought further in his investigation.

"No problem." Booth replied, not wanting to have this conversation once more.

He had been about to turn around when he felt Temperance grab his arm.

"I can make it up to you." She said. "Tonight."

But Booth shook his head.

"There will be no need for that, Temperance. I already have something else planned for us."

He grinned. She raised an eyebrow.

"For tonight?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." He replied. "It'll be a surprise."

"But I don't like surprises and you know that."

Booth chuckled. Again, he fought the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. Even the urge to give her a quick kiss on the cheek was difficult to stop.

"Tough." He simply replied before winking at her.

Seconds later, Temperance was watching him walk back out the sliding doors. She turned aroudn, a smile plastered on her face.

"Something's definetely up with them." Angela said to her colleagues as they huddled together and watched the two partners talking.

The look in Booth's eyes didn't escape Angela's attention.

"Could be just your imagination." Hodgins replied, not seeing what Angela was.

"Could also be that they are dating." Angela added before dropping her gaze back to the her sketchbook. "Either way, I'm going to find out what's going on."

She heard a tsk beside her. She chose to ignore it.

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Booth walked out of his boss' office feeling slightly annoyed. Cullen had demanded an update on the Bingham case that Booth hadn't been able to provide. He had simply been able to tell his boss that he thought Bingham innocent but, when asked for proof, he hadn't been able to give any. Cullen had given him a week to find evidence since Bingham was scheduled to appear in court in ten days. Booth had nodded and walked out of the office.

_How am I supposed to prove that in a week?_ He thought to himself as he stepped into his office.

He found the sketch Angela had promised on his fax machine. He grabbed the sheet of paper and turned it around. A rather good-looking young man stood staring at him. Booth immediately felt bad for the guy. So young and so full of promises ahead of him, yet someone had taken his life away from him. Sighing, he sat down at his desk and booted up his computer.

It took Booth five minutes to locate ten matches. The first nine gave him nothing. He hit jackpot at match #10. He immediately picked up his phone and dialed a number he knew too well.

"Brennan." A woman voice stated on the other side of the line.

His heart began to race.

"Ian Shelley."

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"You got the parents to come down on such short notice?" Temperance asked as they walked towards interrogation room #3.

"I've got good persuasion skills." Booth replied, smirking and looking at her tenderly.

"Stop it." Temperance warned, noticing the look in his eyes.

"What?" Booth asked, truly confused.

"Flirting." Temperance replied. "Stop flirting. We're working."

Booth fought the urge to ask her when had they _not_ flirted at work but he kept quiet. Instead, he answered her previous question seriously.

"The FBI is refunding their plane tickets. All they need to do is pay the hotel."

"That's... odd."

"Yeah well it ws the only way to get them to come down here so I could ask them a few questions. I couldn't possibly go up to Vermont just for that."

"Well you could have."

Their conversation came to a stop when Booth pushed the door to the room open. A rather tired-looking couple was already seated at the large table. Booth made the introductions and the two partners sat down.

Temperance examined them. She had seen Ian Shelley's picture and she could honestly say the young man looked just like his father. If the older man hadn't had greyish hair, Temperance would have sworn father and son were actually identical twins. They had the same strong jaw, the same face structure and had the same dark brown eyes. The only thing that had seemed to belong to Ian's mother was his nose. He definetely had his mother's nose.

She heard at a distance Booth's voice telling the couple he was very sorry for their loss. Temperance watched as the older woman sniffed and nodded and how Ian's father's expression just seemed to become neutral. She figured he had put his heart in a box.

"I just need to ask you a few questions about your son. It shouldn't take too long. An hour, at most."

The Shelleys nodded. Booth took it as a sign to ask his first question.

"When was the last time you saw your son?"

Mrs Shelley answered between sniffles.

"He came up to see us in August. He stayed for about three weeks before he took the train back to Washington. He said he needed to get some stuff ready before school started."

"Your son was still going to school?"

"Yes. He was planning on getting a PhD in psychology so he could become a child psychologist. He just loved children and cared about them so much. Ian was a very caring person. I just don't understand why someone would want to harm him."

"Your son had no enemies?"

"None whatsoever." Mrs Shelley replied.

"Where did your son live?"

"He lived in Washington. Inside the city."

"His body was found in a ditch just outside of the city. Do you have any idea what he was doing there?"

Mrs Shelley shook her head.

"How about you, Sir? Do you have any idea what your son could have been doing in a rural area?"

"Not really." The older man answered, honestly.

Booth nodded.

"So you said you last saw your son fourth week of August and that he took the train back to Washington?"

"That is correct." Mrs Shelley answered.

"Did you talk to your son on the phone after that?"

"He called to say that he had gotten home okay. He always called so we wouldn't be worried. He said that he didn't have much time to talk because he was exhausted and just wanted to get some sleep."

"And that's the last time you heard from him?"

"That's the last time we heard from him."

"Why did you decide to declare him missing?"

Mr. Shelley answered the question when his wife was thrown into another fit of sobs. He gently put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

"My wife tried to call him a couple of times after that but she only got his answering machine. She called up some of his friends who told her they hadn't seen Ian since he had come back from Vermont. Apparently, they had gone out that night. She tried some other friends and they told them the same thing. She got worried and called the police. We have contacts in your local PD here and my wife got an officer to go down to my son's apartment. The officer said he knocked a couple of times without luck. A neighbor who happened to be walking out of his own apartment told the officer that Ian hadn't been home in a week. The landlord told him the same thing and mentionned that my son hadn't paid the rent either. So the officer filed a report for my wife."

"And how long ago was that?"

"About three to four weeks ago."

Booth nodded and turned to his partner.

"Your son," Temperance started, "was killed by strangulation."

She heard a high pitch cry coming from Mrs Shelley. She ignored it and continued her explaination.

"Just before, he was knocked unconscious by something hard. We're not quite sure what was used since we didn't find anything at the crime scene. He was killed on the road then dragged into a ditch. That's where we found him."

"What's left of him?" Mr. Shelley asked, his voice thick with sadness.

"Only bones. By the looks of it, the victim has been dead for at least a month."

Booth had been about to add something when the ring of his cell phone cut him off. Excusing himself to the Shelleys, he got up and walked out the room. Temperance heard him state his name as the door closed behind him.

"I'm very sorry." She said to the couple in front of her.

"When can we have him?" Mr. Shelley asked. "You know, so we can give him a proper burial."

"We'll be able to release the bones once we have found out what happened to him."

"And what if you don't?" Mrs Shelley replied.

"We will." Temperance said, confidently.

She turned to the sound of the door opening. Booth had a serious expression and he immediately turned to the Shelleys.

"An agent will escort you downstairs. This meeting is over."

The couple nodded.

"What's going on, Booth?"

"A new body has been found."


	4. Chapter 3: The Body in the Dumpster

**Chapter 3: The Body in the Dumpster**

"We'll be meeting with Loughlin down at the scene." Booth informed his partner as they climbed in the SUV. "The body was found in a dumpster in the parking lot of a mall. Three teenagers found it, just rotting there. Let's just say they were pretty grossed out."

"Corpse or remains?"

"Loughlin said it's a corpse."

"But I don't work with corpses. Why am I coming?"

"You're my partner. Wherever I go, you go too."

He turned to smile at her. She pointed back to the road. He chuckled.

The crime scene was crowded. Several curious bystanders had gathered behind the yellow duct tape and watched in excitement as Temperance and Booth ducked under the tape and walked towards the woman with CORONER spelled on the back of her shirt. Loughlin turned around at the sound of footsteps and greeted the two partners with a large smile.

"Nice day, huh?" She asked, cheerfully.

"Not really." Booth replied. "So, Michelle, what have you got for us?"

"Well, for _her_, nothing much." The coroner replied, pointing to Temperance. "But for you, I've got a nice recently murdered woman in a dumpster."

Booth shuddered slightly. Loughlin had way of putting her thoughts into words that always made Booth cringe. Today was no exception.

He took a few tentative steps towards the enormous garbage can. He could see an arm hanging out the side of the rusty container. He fought against the growing nauseous feeling. No matter how many times he saw a dead body, he always got the same reaction. He turned to Temperance. She seemed calm and not at all disgusted. He wondered how she could do it.

Loughlin's voice and a sharp pain on his right arm brought him back to his senses. He turned to find his girlfriend staring disapprovingly at him. He rubbed his arm where she had punched him.

A smile tugged at Loughlin's lips.

"As I was saying, from the looks of it, the victim has been dead for two or three days. I'm waiting for my assistant to bring me my corpse bag and we'll take her down."

"How do you know it's a woman?" Booth asked, glancing briefly at the arm.

"You'll see." Loughlin replied.

"Uh Dr. Loughlin?" A shy voice said from behind Booth.

A young looking man stepped forward.

"Yes, James?" Loughlin asked, a little annoyed.

"I got the bag you asked me for."

"Good. Just set it in front of the dumpster."

Booth turned to his partner and lowered his voice.

"Don't you think this James guy's a little like Zach?"

Temperance shook her head.

"Zach's a lot smarter." She replied before turning her attention to the coroner.

Minutes later, the body was safely resting inside a plastic bag. Loughlin had seen right when she had stated the victim had been female and it didn't take a coroner to figure out how she had died.

"Strangulation." Temperance whispered as she looked at the marks on the neck.

She imagined what the bones would look like under the skin. Instict made her crouch down in front of the corpse, snap on some latex gloves and lift the head slightly. A wound on the back of the skull confirmed her beliefs. She looked up at Loughlin.

"Strangulation and knocked behind the head." She said, a wave of familiarity sweeping through her.

"Just like Ian Shelley." Booth said behind her.

Loughlin looked up.

"The man in the ditch?"

Booth nodded.

"Do you think we could have a serial killer on the loose here?" Booth asked the women.

Temperance shrugged.

"I don't know." Loughlin replied. "But let's just get this little one back to the lab and give her an identity."

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"Hannah Kennan, 29 years old." Loughlin said as she dropped the file onto her colleague's desk. "Husband reported her missing three days ago."

"Does it match the time of death?" Booth replied, his eyes never leaving the picture of the beautiful woman on it.

"She died exactly three days ago and was thrown in the dumpster. The husband is coming down to identify her. Would you like to interview him at the same time?"

Booth shrugged then got up.

"Sure. Why not?"

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Mr. Kennan looked younger than Booth had expected considering his wife had been 29 years old. The agent introduced himself before taking a seat across from the husband's chair. He rubbed his hands together, not quite sure how to start. Kennan looked the sensitive type. A single wrong step could make him close up and not answer any questions. Booth had to be careful.

"I'm very sorry for your loss." Booth started, as per usual.

"I'm pretty sure you say that to all of your victim's families."

Kennan's tone was sharp. Booth felt the urge to snap back but he didn't. It wouldn't lead to anything.

"Doesn't mean that I don't mean what I say. It's different with each family. How long have you two been married?"

"It would have been ten years in November."

"So you loved your wife?"

Kennan's eyes narrowed.

"Of course I love my wife. Are you insinuating that I killed her?"

"That's not what I said, Mr. Kennan." Booth replied, an edge of frustration in his voice. "I have a few procedural questions to ask you. It's not going to take long."

Kennan leaned back in his chair. Booth took it as an invitation to continue. So he did.

"What did your wife do for a living?"

"She was an elementary school teacher. She taught the fourth grade. She loved her job and, in all modesty, I can say that she was the best teacher in the school. Some of her colleagues were even jealous of her. I know what you're thinking, Agent Booth. None of them were jealous enough to kill her."

"That is not what I was thinking."

"But I'm sure it crossed your mind. Hannah just had a way with children. Even with ours."

"You have children?"

Kennan nodded.

"Two. Claudia is eight and Paul is five. We were planning on having our third and last child."

"I have a son too. He's six. His name is Parker. I can imagine how you feel. I'd feel the same way if his mother would die, leaving me to care for him on my own. You must be scared."

Kennan's voice cracked.

"Terrified."

Booth nodded.

"I need you to tell me, Mr. Kennan, what Hannah was doing the day she disappeared. When did you first notice that she had vanished?"

Kennan seemed to consider his answer for a moment before replying. Booth didn't think much of it. Kennan looked like the type who simply went to the point. He was probably just erasing some minor, unimportant details from his memory. He'd see, later on, if these details were worth enquiring about.

"She left to drop off our daughter to her last soccer game Saturday morning. She had some errands to do afterwards and she asked me to go pick up Claudia after her game and that she'd be back for lunch. I decided to surprise my daughter and I went down with her brother earlier to the field and to watch her play. We went straight home after the game, thinking my wife would be there and that lunch would be on the table. Except, she wasn't there. We waited for a few hours, thinking that maybe she'd run into someone she knew and had just gone out for a coffee or something."

He paused to take a breath. Booth remained motionless.

"At dinner, I got worried. I called her parents to see if maybe she had stopped by their house but they hadn't seen or heard of her. I tried her cell, I called her sister, her brother and some of her friends but nobody had seen her. I waited until midnight before calling the police. They said there was nothing they could do until morning. So I waited. Sunday, I called them again and an officer came down to our house to take my story. He told me that they'd search for her car or a woman with that description but I know that they didn't do it."

"Did your wife tell you what kind of errands she had to do?"

"Groceries, mostly."

"Her body was found in the parking lot of Greenboro Mall. Do you have any idea what she might have been doing there?"

"Greenboro Mall? This is pretty far from our grocery store."

"Actually, there isn't a grocery store anywhere close to this mall. Her car was found parked behind the mall, near where she was found. The car was empty. Do you think she could have been meeting someone?"

Kennan shook her head.

"Not that I know of."

Booth could see the emotions the man was feeling at the thought that, maybe, his wife had gone to meet another man. He saw the betrayal, the hurt, the jealousy, the anger all flash into the man's eyes.

"Does anything suspicious or weird happen around the time of her disappearance? Weird phone calls, people showing up wherever you went. Things like that."

Kennan's eyes locked with Booth's. Both men stayed silent. Somewhere in the room, a fly was buzzing.

"Actually," Kennan started after thirty seconds of silence, "Hannah complained about being stalked after her trip to Albany, New York."

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"Stalked?" Temperance asked as she set two plates on her table.

"Yep. Stalked. Apparently, Hannah was seeing the same man everywhere she went." Booth replied as he poured some milk into a casserole already half-filled with water.

"Could be just a coincidence."

"Would you think it was a coincidence if everywhere you went, the same man showed up?"

Temperance shrugged.

"Probably not. Did Kennan give you the description of the man?"

Booth shook his head.

"He was never with her when the 'stalking' occurred. He just took her word for it. He did say that she described the man as tall and with brown hair. Doesn't help us much, though. Think how many tall, brown-haired lives in Washington."

"Good point. So, is _this_ my special surprise dinner?" She asked as she watched Booth empty the pre-packaged noodles on the boiling water and milk.

"It's part of it." Booth answered.

"Where's the other part?"

But Booth didn't answer. Instead, he walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

"How about you go take a bath and I'll call you when dinner is ready?"

"But I don't like baths." Temperance replied, a little childishely.

Booth leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

"Tough." He replied, softly.


	5. Chapter 4: The Body under the Balustrade

**A/N: Forgot to thank everybody who reviewed. I'm really happy you're enjoying this story because I'm having a lot of fun writing it. I'm updating quickly on this one since I'm like two or three chapters ahead but don't expect any updates until at least Wednesday (BONES PREMIERE! sorry, got carried away) since I'm going away from Sunday to Tuesday night. Until then, take care, read and don't forget to give me feedback.**

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The report laid on his desk. From the corner of his eye, Booth could see it just sitting there, waiting, almost watching him expectantly in hopes that he would drop his gaze onto it. But Booth couldn't bare to bring his eyes down on the report. He'd been working on it for three days, interviewing, when he could, Bingham's family on the man's history and talking to a few neighbors. He hadn't had much time, with corpses showing up all around the city but despite the lack of time, Booth was sure of at least one thing: he had no proof that Bingham hadn't killed his wife.

Of course, his gut feeling told him the man hadn't done it but Booth hardly doubted a jury would be convinced by something so unfounded. Booth knew it. He needed proof, hard evidence like his parnter would say. Loughlin hadn't been able to provide any and, Booth had to admit, the only evidences she _had_ been able to give him all linked back to Bingham. But Bingham hadn't done it? Right?

Getting up, Booth began to pace back and forth, casting glances at the papers on his desk. A few seconds later, he finally snapped out of it. Annoyed by his behavior, he sat back down at his desk. Taking the report, he stared at the information that had shattered his hopes of proving Bingham innocent.

William Bingham had had a company and his business had been in trouble. The man had needed money. The couple were insured and his wife had money. Killing her would have given him the opportunity to get that money and maybe get his business back on track. That! That was hard evidence. His gut feeling wasn't. The jury would look at the financial side of the case.

Then there were these others things. Bingham had an anger management problem, he drank and gambled on the side. He had problems. Cops had been over at his home several times. Bingham had even been charged once for domestic violence. The wife hadn't pressed charges and Bingham had walked away a free man. It was highly possible that, in a moment of pure anger, Bingham had killed his wife, possibly over money she hadn't wanted to lend him. Nobody knew what had gone on in that house the day Theresa Bingham was murdered. Nobody.

And Booth couldn't believe it. Of all the people who had been interviewed, family, friends, neighbors, nobody had heard a thing, no a single sound coming from that house. Surely Theresa hadn't died silently. Somebody _must_ have heard _something_. The murder had occured on a Saturday morning. Someone _had_ to be home that morning.

Booth rubbed his temples as a headache started. Cullen was counting on him to set his friend free but Booth hardly doubted there was anything he could do. Everything pointing back to Bingham: the clean-up, the financial problems, the temper, his 'criminal' history, everything. Still, something inside Booth's mind told him that there was more than that. That Bingham really hadn't done it.

He sighed, angrily. This was so frustrating! Nobody how he looked at the evidence, it still didn't agree with his guts.

He had others things to do than to spend all of his time on the Bingham case. He had two bodies on his hands that also demanded his attention. Cullen had asked him to work on his friend's case on his spare time. Between his dates with his girlfriend and the two other bodies, Booth just didn't have any more time to spare.

Closing the folder, he considered the case closed. There was nothing he could do and he'd tell Cullen just that. Maybe incarcerating an innocent man was all they could do. The police had no other suspect, no other evidence had been gathered at the scene thanks to Bingham and the only evidences pointed to him. To ease his torned conscious, Booth labelled Bingham as guilty. Case closed.

But his conscious spoke louder and Booth immediately felt guilty. He sighed once more as he leaned back in his chair. He needed a miracle. He needed a piece of evidence that would prove to him, and to everybody else, that Bingham was no murderer.

His phone rang. He picked it up and listened. His heart stopped beating. No... it couldn't be possible.

In a instant, he was springing out of his eat, grabbing his coat and dashing out the door.

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He took the quickest way there. Excitment rushed through his veins as he tried his best to fight the confused feeling filling his mind. Loughlin had sounded somewhat the same on the phone. Excited, yet confused. As he parked the SUV in front of the house, he was immediately joined by Fromm, Loughlin and an officer Booth had never met.

Loughlin explained, once again, the situation as they walked rapidly towards the house. The door was already wide open and two officers blocked the entrance. Booth wondered why but as he stepped on the first stairs leading to the front porch, he immediately understood why. He could smell it: death in all its glory. He fought the temptation to vomit.

He could hear Loughlin's voice in the background still explaining away. But her detailed explainations could not prepare him for what he was about to see inside the house.

Bingham laid lifeless on the floor, a few feet away from the front door, a rope tied tightly around his neck. Booth stared at him, unable to believe his eyes. _The miracle_, he thought. He felt Loughlin nudge him and pointing towards the top of the stairs. Booth's eyes followed.

A chunk of the balustrade had broken, fallen to the floor and now laid beside Binghman's body. Booth immediately understood.

"Pretty weird place to hang yourself." He commented as he watched the whole in the balustrade.

"That's not the weirdest part." Loughlin added.

She motionned him to follower her. He did. To the body.

Loughlin crouched down and he did the same, feeling like a puppy following its mistress. He watched as his colleague snapped on latex gloves, reached down slowly to the victim's neck and moved the rope. She pointed, with a free finger, to the red marks.

"The rope burns are irregular."

"Meaning?" Booth asked, not quite sure what she was saying.

Loughlin sighed loudly.

"A rope couldn't have made a mark like this." The coroner explained. "The rope would have made a V-shaped mark on the neck. Yet, here, we can clearly see a more W-shaped mark. Ropes don't do that. Hands do."

Booth frowned.

"So you mean to say that Bingham didn't kill himself?"

"Unless he strangled himself to death, I'd say no." Loughlin replied. "There's also something else that doesn't fit. The balustrade. It's made out of wood and the whole thing wobbles. Trust me, my hands tested it. Clearly, it wouldn't have been able to support the weight of a man for a long period of time. Bingham didn't last more than two minutes up there. Probably not even one."

Booth nodded, a smile of comprehension lighting his features.

"So not enough time to die from asphyxiation."

"Hey... not bad for a federal agent." Loughlin replied, teasingly.

"Thanks." Booth said, sarcastically.

"Seriously, though. My boys will go over a secene reconstruction to determine how long Bingham was actually able to stau up there. Maybe he _did_ kill himself and that the rope burns are just weird in patterns."

But Booth hardly doubted it. The coroner was overlooking an important fact.

"Maybe..."

"You don't seem to believe me."

"Oh it's not you I believe, it's the whole scenario. It just doesn't seem plausible. Like, first of all, how on Earth did Bingham manage to commit suicide by hanging himself on the balustrade of his house?"

Loughlin chuckled.

"Good point. Hadn't thought of that."

Booth took out his charm smile.

"Well it takes a federal agent to think about stuff like that."

"Ha ha ha, funny man. If you're so clever, then tell me what this is then?"

Booth looked over Bingham's body once more, before turning back to the coroner.

"This, my lovely, is called staged suicide."

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Booth's heart raced inside his chest and adrenaline pumped in his veins as he climbed back in his SUV. Bingham was dead. Murdered. He still couldn't believe it. Had that actually been the twisted miracle he had asked for? He had a feeling it was. Even though Loughlin hadn't ruled the case as staged suicide, Booth knew, deep down, that it was. All the evidences just didn't add up to suicide.

Turning onto the boulevard, he reached into his pocket. Taking out his cell phone, he pressed the speed-dial button that would connect him to the most beautiful woman in his eyes, on the other side of the city. His heart pounded louder and louder in his ears as he listened to the ringing tone. Finally, he heard her pick up and his heart stopped beating for a split second.

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"Brennan." Temperance said as she answered her phone.

"_Hey babe, it's me."_

Temperance glanced briefly at her colleagues.

"Don't call me babe."

The words flew out of her mouth, earning her an inquisitive look from her best friend and colleagues. Temperance immediately walked away. She needed to have this conversation away from prying ears.

"_Sorry, Bones._"

But Temperance knew her boyfriend wasn't really sorry.

"_Let me guess... Angela is around?"_

"Well, not anymore. I just walked away from them."

She heard Booth chuckle on his side of the line and frowned. She didn't understand what was so funny about what she had said. After all, it had been the truth.

"Why are you calling me, Booth?" She asked, exasperated and annoyed that he had bothered her during work for what seemed to be, at the moment, for no reason.

"_I just wanted to hear your voice."_

"Cute." Temperance replied, sarcastically, as she leaned against the wall. "Seriously, why are you calling?"

There was a small silence.

"_Bingham's dead."_

"You're kidding?" Temperance asked, surprised, her eyes widening.

"_Nope. I'm dead serious."_

"Funny."

"_I'm a funny guy."_

"On with it, Booth."

"_Anyway, it seems like Bingham killed himself. Well, that's what Loughlin believes anyway, in spite of the irregular rope marks."_

Temperance frowned.

"Rope marks? What are you talking about?"

"_Something about the rope marks not being V-shaped. She thinks that the strangulation was made by hand but she hasn't ruled suicide out completely."_

"So what? Bingham strangled himself to death?"

"_You sound just like her."_

Temperance ignored his comment.

"What do you think?" She asked. "What's your _gut_ telling you?"

He knew she was teasing him. He took the bait.

"_I'm thinking staged suicide or, in other words, murder."_

Temperance immediately began to feel agitated. A pattern had formed itself in front of her eyes, a pattern that, until today, had only been coincidental. She fought herself to stay calm. There was no need to get carried away.

"In which case," she said, calmly, "the murder ressembles the other three. Strangulation."

"_Yup."_

"What does this mean?" She asked, even though she knew what it meant. "You're thinking serial killer?"

"_Well it'd be hard not to. I mean, the four victims have been killed the same way and about two days seperate each victims."_

"Not exactly. Ian Shelley died a month ago, Theresa Bingham was killed last Saturday, Hannah Kennan was found Tuesday in a dumpster and killed two or three days before making time of death Saturday or Sunday. Now it's Thursday and Bingham's dead. Kind of irregular for a serial killer. And why these particular people? They don't even seem to share any type of link or relationship. Serial killers are more predictable than that. You told me so yourself."

"_I know but I'm sure we'll find out pretty soon. There has to be some reason for the killer to have picked these particular victims. He didn't just pick them up the street."_

Suddenly, a thought hit Temperance.

"The man that was stalking Hannah Kennan? Could he be the one?"

There was a small silence during which Booth seemed to consider the possibility. From where she stood, Temperance could see Angela stealing glances at her. She sighed before rolling her eyes. What was it with Angela and always wanting to know everything?

"_Were you sighing at me?"_

"No. Sorry. It's Angela. She's being annoying."

Booth chuckled.

"_She's probably just wondering who you're talking to."_

"Yeah, since you called me babe."

Booth chuckled once more.

"_Sorry, _Bones. _Anyway, as I was about to say, I'm not sure the man who stalked Hannah Kennan is necessarily the murderer. After all, he could have just been someone from her work who had a crush on her."_

"Then who did it?"

"_That's what I have to find out. Look, babe, I have to go, okay? I'll see you tonight. That's if you still want to see me that is. I feel like we've gone out on a date that never really ended."_

Temperance could almost see the scared expression probably plastered on her boyfriend's face at the moment. She smiled tenderly at the thought. He always seemed so scared of her, of her reactions mostly, every time he attempted to make a move. She remembered their first kiss. He had asked her permission to kiss her, afraid that she'd punch him if he didn't. She had chuckled and had leaned in immediately, only brushing her lips against his. He had smiled before pulling her into a long kiss.

"_Bones?"_

His voice brought her back to reality. She blushed.

"Of course I want to see you, Booth."

"_My place or yours?"_

She paused to think for a moment.

"Yours."

She almost thought that she could hear him beam.

"_Okay. So I'll see you tonight?_"

"Yeah."

She had been able to hang up when the sound of his voice reached her ears.

"_Oh and Bones?"_

"What?" She asked, putting the phone back to her ear.

"_Be careful. We don't know who this killer is and we don't know how dangerous he can be."_

"I hardly doubt he's going to go after me, Booth."

"_I know but we never know. You have this way of getting yourself in trouble. I just wouldn't want to run in his path."_

Temperance rolled her eyes.

"I'll be careful, Booth. I promise. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

And before he could add something else, she hung up.

Putting her cell back in her pocket, she walked back onto the platform. Angela looked up from the remains they had been working on. A smile crept on her face. Temperance did her best to remain neutral.

"Who was _that_?" Angela asked, teasingly.

"That was just Russ." Temperance replied, dismissively.

"Russ as in your brother?" Hodgins asked.

"Yeah." The anthropologist replied, shrugging.

"Well I'm not buying it." Hodgins mumbled under his breath.

Angela looked at her, weirdly.

"And _Russ_ called you babe?"

Temperance felt her face grow warm and she hoped she wasn't blushing.

"He was just joking." She replied before turning her attention to the skeleton.

Angela's eyebrows shot upwards as she turned to look at Hodgins. A smile tugged at the entomologist's lips. Zach and Temperance, as usual, remained oblivious.

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**See you Wednesday! And here's a small teaser for you: Angela's dropping by her best friend's apartment, interrupting... You know what? I don't feel like telling you what she's interrupting. ;-)**


	6. Chapter 5: Surprise Visit

**A/N: Here is the promised chapter. And I just wanted to wish everybody a good premiere tonight! Unfortunately I won't be able to watch it and will have to wait until Friday to watch it. So lucky for those who can!**

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"I do _not_ snore, Booth, okay?" Temperance said as she pushed her key in the doorknob and unlocked the door to her apartment.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Bones." Booth replied, as he grabbed her waist from behind and gently pushed her inside the apartment. "But let me tell you something. You _do _snore!"

Temperance threw her keys back in her purse and let it drop to the floor before leaning in her boyfriend's embrace. She let herself enjoy this tiny moment of happiness before retorting with a remark of her own.

"If it bothers you so much, why did you sleep in the bed with me?"

She turned around to face him, bringing her arms around his neck. She looked deep into his eyes and saw something she had never seen before. She wondered what it was. A mix of laughter and something else illuminated his eyes. A part of her couldn't help but feel happy that she was the one he was looking at that way.

"You were sleeping at my place. I couldn't really go sleep on the couch now, could I?"

He kissed her sweetly.

"Besides, I enjoy being close to you _and_ I know how to make you go quiet."

She gave him a look that asked him how. He smiled.

"One push and you stop for a few minutes."

"Hey!" Temperance said, indignantly. "Do I go and push you while you sleep?"

"Do I snore?"

"No, but..."

He kissed her again.

"Then no pushing. Besides, I don't even think I'd feel it if you tried."

She gaped at him, eyes wide open in surprise. But her surprised expression immediately turned mischievous.

"Maybe I should try."

Booth chuckled at her tone.

"Maybe you should close the door."

Frowning and confused by his reply, Temperance peeked over her partner's shoulder to find the door still wide open. She immediately disengaged herself from his arms and closed the door. She didn't want everybody walking past her apartment door to see what they were doing.

"What do you want for dinner?" Temperance asked as she made her way to her kitchen.

"Hungry already, Bones?" Booth replied, teasingly.

"I didn't have lunch today." Temperance answered, seriously.

Booth shook his head. Would she ever get his sarcasm? He hardly doubted it.

"What?"

"Nothing, Bones. Nothing. But, seriously, I don't know what I want to eat. I don't even want to think about food at the moment."

"Then what do you want to think about?"

He motionned to her to come forward. She did. When she was at arm's length, he grabbed one of her hand and gently led her to the couch. Dropping onto it, he waited for her to do the same. When she did, he pulled her close to him. She surprisingly snuggled up against him. He smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

"I just want to relax for a little bit, with you in my arms."

He kissed the top of her head once more, inhaling the scent of her hair. He sighed.

"I had a really hard day." He added.

She looked up at him.

"What happened?" She asked.

"I went to talk to some of Bingham's neighbors again. Nobody saw a thing which is really weird. Loughlin told me that she had officially tagged the death as a homicide yet nobody saw or heard anything. There's still that neighbor though who lives just beside the Bingham residence who still wasn't there again today."

"Could be that he's gone on vacation?"

"In the middle of the autumn? Maybe but I doubt it. Also, something odd happened today. As I was coming out of one of the neighbor's house, a man jogged past me. As he passed in front of me, he gave me the most suspicious look I have ever seen. When I told him to come back, he just kept on jogging. I didn't follow him but right now, I really wish I had."

"Your gut feeling telling you that?"

She felt him nod.

"What did the man look like?"

"All I was able to see were his dark brown eyes. He was wearing a hood which hide his hair but I'm pretty sure his hair were dark brown too."

He paused for a few seconds.

"I came back to the Bureau to find Cullen waiting for me in my office. He told me that he was glad I worked on the Bingham case while he was alive and that now he expected me to get to the bottom of his death. Like I have time to spend on that."

"But I thought you said that we were looking for a serial killer?"

"We are. I mean, I am. I mean... I just want to forget today, Bones, if you don't mind. Cullen's putting a lot of pressure on me, as always, but this time it's just too much. I agreed to help him, to do him a personal favor but if I had known he would have acted that way, I wouldn't have accepted his request."

Temperance looked up at her partner. She could tell that he was tired and the laughter she had seen in his eyes only minutes ago had now vanished. She immediately began to feel bad.

"Maybe I could help you forget."

Booth smirked.

"Maybe."

Their lips met tentatively, as always, like kissing was a huge step for them every time. But as Temperance relaxed more and more in his embrace, they found themselves kissing more deeply and passionately. And as she relaxed even more, Booth found himself getting bolder.

After several seconds (or minutes, they lost count) of kissing, Booth's hands found themselves under the hem of her shirt. Temperance groaned at the contact of his skin against hers and willingly let him pull her down on the couch until she was laying on her back.

Temperance lost herself in him as his lips left hers and trailed down to her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips and she felt him smile against her skin.

Time stood still as Booth continued his ministrations on her neck and he was about to switch sides when a loud knock at the door startled them. Temperance's eyes shot open as Booth's gaze snapped to the door, both hearts racing madly inside their chest.

Booth's surprise lasted a split-second and he immediately went back to their previous activity. Temperance tried to push him off.

"Booth, I have to get that." She said as she tried to get out from under him.

"You will do no such thing." He replied as he brought his lips back to hers.

She kissed him back for a few seconds before a second round of knocks were heard. She pushed him harder. This time, Booth obliged and groaned as he sat back up.

"You're killing me, woman." He told his partner as she got up and walked towards the door.

She simply flashed him a grin before opening the door.

Angela stood on the other side of the door, a grin on her face. Temperance noticed that her best friend looked excited. She felt her heart begin to race once again.

_Uh oh_. A part of her mind told her.

She mentally told it to pipe down.

"Angela. What are you doing here?" She asked, surprised.

She thought she heard Booth shift on her couch. She stiffened immediately. She didn't want her best friend to know her partner was in her apartment. But as Angela tried to walk in, Temperance found herself blocking the way. The artist frowned.

"I was just... coming to see if... you'd want to go out tonight." Angela replied, trying to peek over her best friend's shoulder. "You know, girl's night... out."

The end of her sentence fell as her gaze dropped on the FBI agent sitting on her best friend's couch. Temperance groaned inwardly as she prepared herself for the squealing that would soon be coming their way. But it didn't happen. Instead, Angela seemed stunned. Temperance mentally went over a list of excuse as to why Booth was in her apartment, most of all sitting on her couch. None of the ones she found were convincing enough.

"Booth? What are you doing here?" Angela asked, suspiciously, once she had found her voice.

"Uh... just watching some TV." The agent replied, pointing to an empty space where a television should have been.

Angela glanced briefly at the empty space. Booth did the same and immediately realized his mistake. He looked over at Temperance who rolled her eyes at him. He immediately began to feel stupid.

"Booth came to drop me off. He walked me to the door, you know, to make sure I get here okay and don't get kidnapped on the way." Temperance cut in before Angela could make any sarcastic remark. "You know how he can be."

Booth felt his anger rise but forced it down. After all, Temperance was just covering up for the both of them. Whatever excuses she could find to explain why he was here, he'd just have to accept it.

"I see." Angela replied, another smile tugging at her lips. "Well since Booth is only here on a _friendly_ visit, I guess you two won't mind if I stay. I don't have anything better to do tonight."

Booth's eyes immediately went to his girlfriend.

"Sure. Why not?" Temperance replied, avoiding her boyfriend's gaze.

Angela smiled.

"Good."

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"So Booth, tell me. How's the Bingham case coming along?"

Booth swallowed his mouthful before replying.

"Well, we're pretty sure that we have a serial killer on the loose. Now all we need to find out is why the killer is picking these specific victims. So far, we haven't got anything."

Angela nodded, pretending to be interested in Booth's response.

"Have you two been working together on that case?" She asked her two friends.

"There are no remains for me to identify so I don't see why I should be involved in this case."

"But I thought Booth was your _partner_?"

The emphasis on the word partner made Temperance's face grow warm. She avoided looking at Booth.

"He is but it doesn't meant that I have to work on every single case with him."

She looked briefly at Angela before looking back down to her plate. Why was she so nervous? Why couldn't she look at Angela in the eye? She had never been this way before. She just couldn't understand why she was letting her best friend have this effect on her. So Booth had walked her to the door. Big deal. It didn't mean that they had been dating for two weeks.

She turned to her best friend.

"How's Jack?"

Booth's head snapped up.

"Jack?"

And it was Angela's turn to look down at her plate.

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"Okay, Ange. Yes. I'll see you tomorrow." Temperance said as she closed the door behind her best friend.

Leaning against it, she sighed. She opened her eyes to find Booth staring at her. She could tell he was laughing inwardly but she wasn't sure whether she found it funny or annoying. She chose the second.

"Would you stop laughing? It's not funny." She said as she pushed herself from the door.

Booth met her halfway in her living room.

"Come on, Bones. Lighten up. That was a fun evening." He said as he reached for her waist and pulled her to him.

"Easy for you to say. She didn't question _you_."

Booth chuckled.

"I have to admit, asking her about Jack was a pretty good payback. I can't believe they are dating."

"Well they aren't quite dating yet. They have just gone out a few times for drinks but Angela always came to work the next morning beaming. I figured that Hodgins had somewhat of an effect on her."

Temperance paused.

"I'm sorry we weren't able to spend a quiet night together."

"Nah, it's okay. Quiet nights are all we have been getting since we started dating. This was nice for a change."

"Are you already getting bored of me?" Temperance asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I'd never get bored of you, Temperance. You are far from being a boring woman."

He captured her lips with his. Their kiss immediately grew passionate as Temperance wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. But it was only when his lips left hers to settle, once again, on her neck that she felt the need to pull away.

"Booth... stop, please." She said.

But her sentence fell on deaf ears. She tried to push him away. He didn't budge.

"Booth, please. Stop it. We need to talk."

She felt him stop and, seconds later, she was looking in his dark brown eyes of his. She immediately began to feel weak in the knees and thanked whoever was listening that she was holding on to him.

"Why do you always want me to stop when things get interesting?"

"There are a few things I'd like to talk about."

Booth sighed.

"Okay."

He followed her to her couch.

They sat down, side-by-side and Booth turned to face his partner. It was obvious she was uncomfortable as she wouldn't look him. He heard her take a deep breath. His heart began to race. What was going on?

"Booth, Angela's visit today made me realize a few things."

Booth's heart skipped a beat. Conversations like these were never good.

"And what did you realize?"

Temperance turned to her boyfriend and she could see he looked scared. She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"I just realized that I wasn't ready to have our relationship known to everyone. I mean, I can just imagine Angela's reaction when she'll find out we are dating."

"I think she already knows, Bones." Booth replied, relaxing a bit. "After all, she did drop by on us in your apartment, on a Friday night."

"That's exactly what I mean. See how she acted with us all night? Asking us stupid questions and practically laughing in our face when we answered her. I'd just feel self-conscious if everyone knew about us. I'd always feel like we are being watched and analyzed. I don't want that."

Booth nodded.

"So I'd prefer if we kept our relationship a secret for a little while. You know, until we are seriously involved with each other."

"Okay."

Temperance looked at her partner, surprised. Had he just agreed with her?

"Seriously, you don't mind?"

Booth shrugged.

"A bit but if it's what you want, I'm ready to make that concession. After all, isn't that what a relationship is all about? Besides, I agree with you. It _would_ be annoying to have Angela on our tail all the time, asking us how our relationship is doing."

Temperance smiled.

"Thank you, Booth."

She immediately leaned in. Booth closed the remaining distance. This time, there were no interruptions.

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**Okay so this chapter didn't turn out _exactly_ how I wanted but I hope you all liked it. Once again, have fun watching the premiere tonight!**


	7. Chapter 6: B Seats

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update but I've been sick for like the past week... coughing like crazy and so much that I couldn't do much more than simply watch TV and movies (imagine the customers at work when I was trying to help them... listening to me cough every five words or so). I even declined my friend's invitation to go see my favorite singer in concert because I was coughing too much. But I've had enough energy today, in between cough attacks, to write you guys this long chapter. Hope you like it.**

**Few more things before we start: Goodman is still in the story. As said before, Cam isn't, nor any of the new characters for season 2 (don't want to give away more since most of you don't like spoilers). So, Goodman is still The boss. **

**Also, the information about Amtrak comes from the official website and Wikipedia. So if I got anything wrong, simply say it (nicely, please!).**

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**Chapter 6: B Seats**

He didn't work well under pressure. He knew it, his colleagues knew it but he thought his boss had known also. Maybe he had and had simply chosen to ignore it but Booth hadn't been able to take it much longer. He had taken his courage in both hands and had gone to talk to him. He had told him that, with Bingham dead, the case had just blown wide open. He had added that this case could now become his top priority and not just something he worked on in his spare time. He paused before saying that, if the case became his top priority, he didn't need unwanted pressure from anyone, that he'd find out what happened to the victims in due time. Taking the hint, his boss had simply stared at him for a few seconds, during which Booth had held his breath. Then, finally, Cullen had agreed to give the new serial killer case a new priority. This had happened two hours ago.

Booth had tried calling his partner to tell her the news but Goodman had simply informed him that she was unavailable at the moment. Booth had thanked the man before hanging up, disapointed. He hadn't seen her all week-end, her being gone to visit her brother, and she hadn't even called on Sunday night like Booth had asked her to. He couldn't be surprised by her behavior but a small part of him couldn't help but be. She hadn't called that morning as well and Booth debated whether or not to go down to the lab to find out what she was up to. Work had won the battle. And now, Booth sat at his desk, reviewing the case file for the thousandth time in hope of finding a link between the victims. So far, he had found none.

Theresa Bingham had been a housewife, her husband, William Bingham, bringing home all the money. Bingham had had a business on the edge of bankruptcy. The couple had had some troubled times, partly because of Bingham's anger management problem. Both of them had died in their homes. No witnesses.

Ian Shelley, second victim to have been found, had been a psychology university student. No enemies as far as his parents or friends knew. Booth had spoken to a few of the friends but none had been able to provide much information other than what the Shelleys had given him. They had gone out at a club the night Ian had come back from Vermont and they hadn't seen or spoken to him after that. Shelley had been found dead in a ditch in a rural area. Nobody knew what the young man had been doing there. No witnesses, not even a single piece of evidence.

Hannah Kennan had been an elementary school teacher in the fourth grade. She had been an amazing teacher and some of her colleagues had been envious of her. None of them, though, had been jealous enough to commit a murder, Booth had soon found out. He hadn't had the time to speak to some of Kennan's colleagues but he definetely thought it was worth pursuing, especially after learning that Hannah Kennan had been stalked before her death. Her body had been found in a dumpster at the back of a shopping mall. Her car had been present also. No witnesses.

There were four victims with no apparent link. Their profession sure wasn't one and their age either. Then what could it be?

Booth leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Serial killers usually had a pattern. He had seen several of them. Patterns that went from being really subtle, like a geometrical form on a map, to being pretty apparent, like known enemies. This one fit in the 'really subtle' category. His gut feeling told him that this killer's pattern went further than simply a geometrical form on a map. But Booth couldn't see another reason.

He had been reading Kennan's case description when the ringing of his phone reached his eyes. Subconsciously, he reached over to the handset and picked it up. Putting it to his ear, he stated his name. The voice that answered him snapped him back to reality.

"I was told I could remain anonymous." The stranger told him.

The statement immediately caught Booth's attention. Shutting the folder, he leaned back in his chair.

"Are you a tipster?"

"You could call me that, yes. I do have _some _information regarding the case you are currently working on."

Booth frowned. Sure the case had been released to the press in hopes of getting help from the citizens but something weird about the way the caller was presenting his piece of information told Booth the man was no ordinary citizen.

"And what case would that be?" Booth asked.

He heard the stranger chuckle.

"The recent murders, Agent Booth. The Binghams, Ian Shelley, Hannah Kennan, they were all murdered."

"I'm well aware of that, Sir."

The man went on, ignoring Booth's response.

"You're wondering why they were killed and how they were all related. I can help you with that."

Shivers ran down Booth's spine. How the man had known he was nowhere close to finding the links between the victims, he did not know. That kind of information hadn't been released.

"How do you--?"

But he was caught off by the stranger.

"Check out the Amtrak listings for the beginning of September. I'm sure you'll find it quite interesting."

"How do--- Who are you?"

"I was told I could remain anonymous." The man repeated before hanging up.

Booth stared down at the receiver in his hand before, himself, hanging up. He sat there, staring the phone, replaying the whole conversation in his mind. The whole thing had felt so surreal that Booth began to wonder if the call had actually occured. Subconsciously, he checked the caller ID. The name and number had been blocked but a call _had_ been made.

Booth sighed. Although the man had sounded wildly suspicious, Booth had to admit: he had given him information. And though this information might have been phoney, it was still worth investigating. Grabbing his phone, he speed-dialed the Bureau's secretary.

"Yeah, Linda? It's Agent Booth. Could you fetch me the phone number for Amtrak here in Washington?"

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Amtrak, fusion of the words 'american' and 'track', was created May 1st 1971. Its headquarters residing in Washington, D.C., the company serves more than 500 communities throughout the country and some cities, including Montreal and Toronto, in Canada. It was all Booth had time to read before a voice at the other end of the line told him he had reached Union Station.

"Hello, my name is Special Agent Seeley Booth. I work for the FBI and I was wondering if you would kindly answer some questions for me."

"In regards to what?" A tense womanly voice asked him.

"I would need the list of the passengers who took a train around the beginning of September, preferably coming back from the northeast."

Booth frowned, wondering if he had been cleared enough. The Union Station receptionnist's answer confirmed that he hadn't been.

"I'm sorry... what?"

Booth took a deep breath. Something about this woman was irritating and it vaguely reminded him of his girlfriend. He felt his heart squeeze at the thought of his Bones. His Bones that he hadn't seen or heard from in a couple of days.

_Focus, Seeley. _He told himself.

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I was wondering if there was a particular route that went up north."

"We have a few lines that serve the northeast part of our country." The receptionnist replied, shifting into professional mode. "There's the Acela Express, the Adirondack, the Amtrak Cascades, the Empire Service, the---"

"Do you have any serving Vermont, for example?" Booth asked, cutting off the pretty-well-recited speech of the receptionnist.

"As a matter of fact we do." The woman said, cheerfully.

Booth feigned being surprised.

"The Vermonter does just that. The line starts here in Washington and cuts through the Maryland, New Jersey, New York City, Connecticut, Massachussets to finish its run in St. Alban's, Vermont."

"Does this train run often?"

"Daily."

"Good. I'd like to have the listings of all the passengers from the runs for the week of August 27th to September 1st."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Sir."

"And why is that?"

"Amtrak policy."

"But I'm sure that for a murder investigation, policy can be ignored."

"I'm afraid that—"

But Booth cut her off.

"... that you're going to send the nice Special Agent his listing like he has kindly asked you to do?"

On the other side of the line, the receptionnist gulped. Thirty minutes later, Booth was holding the faxed listings in his hands.

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His eyes were burning from reading in a dim-lighted room but Booth was too lazy to get up and turn on his office light. The lamp on his desk would have to do.

In front of him laid the listings the kind receptionnist had agreed to send him. Pages and pages of names and travel information had been tacked together.

_Who would have known so many people took the train nowadays._ Booth had thought to himself once he had reached the fourth sheet of paper for Day 1.

The names had been seperated by compartments but, even after a few minutes of scanning, Booth still hadn't found familiar names. But he had managed to find out that a large Polish family had travelled on the Vermonter on August 28th. Fifteen people of them to be more precise.

Booth looked up at his clock. An impromptu meeting had caused him to delay his reading of the listings and the clock now read 5:30. He knew he should have gone straight home after the meeting but the listings hadn't been able to wait. Oh well. He'd call his girlfriend later to tell him not to wait up for him.

He had reached August 29th when his cellphone rang. He immediately answered, thinking it might have been Temperance calling. He tried to hide his disappointment at the voice of his mother.

"Seeley!" His mother said. "How _are _you, my boy?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Booth replied, never taking his eyes off the listings.

_Olivia Portman, seat A1. Donovan Portman, seat A2. Yuric Krum, seat A3. Martha Lewis, seat A4._

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, just going over some information for this new case."

_Jenny Lowes, seat A5. Kevin Lowes, seat A6. Laurian Bell, seat A7. Paul Jones, seat A8._

"Are you still at work?"

"Yes."

_William Curtis, seat A9. Joel Curtis, seat A10. Rick Curtis, seat A11. Josie Curtis, seat A12._

Booth's mother tsked and he was pretty sure he could feel her shake her head in disapproval.

"You work way too much, Seeley. You should learn to live a little. Have some fun! Be more like me!"

_Rena Moore, seat A13. Guy St-Amour, seat A14. Jimmy Darwin, seat A15. Paula Reich, seat A16._

"What do you want, Mom?" Booth asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Well... your father and I were wondering if you would like to come up to our cottage this week-end. You could bring your girlfriend if you want."

_Ronaldo Mesa, seat B1. Emilia Mesa, seat B2. Hannah Kennan, seat B3. Ian Shelley, seat B4._

Booth's heart stopped beating. And it was unknown if his surprised reaction was caused by the names of the two victims on the same page or by his mother's comment about bringing his girlfriend with him.

"Who told you?" Booth replied, his heart racing madly in his chest.

He tore his eyes away from the paper. Maybe if he looked away for a while and back at the paper, he'd realize he had hallucinated.

"Your aunt Muriel saw you two making out in a restaurant a few weeks ago."

Booth rolled his eyes at his mother's answer.

"Well tell Aunt Muriel that she needs new glasses. Temperance isn't into PDA."

"Of course she isn't." His mother replied. "But you are. And you have such a way with the ladies, you probably just convinced her to do it."

Booth chuckled.

"It shows how much you don't know Bones."

"Who?"

"Never mind. Listen, Mom, I have some more work to do. I'll talk to Temperance about all of this, see if she wants to go up to Vermont this week-end. I'll call you later."

And Booth hung up before his mother could add something more.

As soon as he had set the receiver down, Booth brought his eyes back to the listings. He scanned the first four names once more. He had not imagined things. The name Hannah Kennan was printed right above Ian Shelley's name. He read the two other names. He had not heard of them before.

His heart racing, he scanned the rest of the list.

_Jennifer Kellerman, seat B5. Damian Wright, seat B6. Paul Rutherford, seat B8. Vince Baker, seat B10. Theresa Bingham, seat B11. William Bingham, seat B12. _

The rest of the compartment had been unoccupied.

A weird feeling immediately spread through Booth's guts. Something told him he had finally found the link between the victims: they had all taken the same train on the same day. Moreover, they had been in the same compartment. Booth shivered as he reread the names. Could his killer be one of the names listed?

A quick search through the FBI database turned out fruitless. Booth's hopes sank. If only it had been _that_ easy.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes with both hands. The clock now shown six o'clock. Bones was probably still at the lab. Getting up, he stretched his numb limbs before grabbing his coat. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could surprise her at work.

He turned off his lamp before walking out of his office, the listing folded in his pocket. This was definetely something his partner would like to see.


	8. Chapter 7: All A Question of Time

**A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry I took longer to update once again. I have a minor writer's block and school has started so I have less time to write. This chapter didn't turn out exactly how I had planned but I still like it. Hope you do too.**

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Temperance opened her eyes to find an arm wrapped tightly around her. She sighed happily as she grabbed the hand and lifted off of her. Turning around, she propped herself on her elbow and stared down at the man asleep beside her. He looked so peaceful while he was asleep that Temperance found herself smiling tenderly at the sight of him. His features were relaxed, his breathing was steady and light and she found it nice that Booth had at least one place where he didn't feel stressed. She knew the case he was working on, and that she was working on through him, was really stressing him.

Her stomach growled. She looked at the time. It was a little past nine and she still hadn't eaten. Booth had showed up around seven and they had had other things on their mind besides food. Dropping one quick kiss on his shoulder, she then got up, threw some clothes on her body and walked out the bedroom.

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Booth stirred slightly as he came out of his deep slumber. He turned around in his bed to find an empty space beside him. His eyes immediately snapped open and his heart began to race madly inside his chest. Where was she? Where was Bones?

In an instant he was on his feet and pulling some pants on. Once half-dressed, he immediately walked out of the room. The apartment was silent. He checked all the rooms: the bathroom, her study, her living room, her kitchen. All empty. He looked at the clock. It was past ten. Where could she have gone at ten o'clock at night?

Grabbing his cellphone, he dialed her number. A ring coming from their bedroom told him that Temperance was charging her phone. He cursed under his breath as he hung up and dialed Angela's number. The artist must have been out somewhere since she wasn't picking up her phone. He sighed, frustrated. Russ was the next number on his list. The young man picked up after four rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey Russ. It's Booth."

"Booth?" A groggy voice asked him. "As in my sister's boyfriend Booth?"

"Yeah." Booth replied, not bothering to wonder how Russ had found out about them when Temperance was so reluctant to go public. "You wouldn't happen to know where your sister is by any chance?"

"She's not with you?"

Accusatory tone. Booth felt the urge to punch his brother-in-law in the face. Like he had done on purpose to lose her.

"No. We fell asleep and when I woke up, she was gone."

"Did you try the lab?"

"It's ten o'clock at night, Russ."

"Yeah. I noticed."

Harsh tone. Booth had had enough.

"Anyway, she'll probably just show up eventually. Sorry to have bothered you."

"No problem."

But before Booth was able to add anything else, Russ had hung up.

Russ didn't know where his sister was, Angela was not answering her cell and Temperance had left her own in the bedroom. He sighed. There wasn't much he could do but wait. He sat down on the couch, not wanting to pace until she'd come back to her apartment but too agitated to sleep.

He heard keys rustling outside the door just as he was sitting down. He immediately sprung to his feet. The door opened seconds later and Temperance stepped in her apartment, grocery bags in her hands.

She was surprised to find her boyfriend standing in her living room. She dropped the bags beside her and closed the door.

"Where were you?"

She looked up.

"I was hungry. I went to do some groceries."

"It's ten o'clock at night."

"Yeah. I noticed."

_Russ and her are without a doubt related._ Booth thought.

"But I was hungry and there was nothing left to eat."

Grabbing her bags, she made her way to her kitchen.

"They were starting to close the store when I arrived. They didn't seem too happy to see me."

Booth chuckled.

"Yeah well, they were probably just tired and wanted to go home. You ruined their plans."

"I did not... well, okay. I did."

"Next time, Bones, just leave a note telling me where you have taken off. I was really worried about you. I thought something bad had happened."

She looked at him curiously and decided not to voice what she was thinking. Instead, she went back to putting away her purchases.

"Are you hungry?"

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She loved the warmth his body provided, especially when it was cold outside. She closed her eyes as she snuggled closer to him. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

"My mom asked me if I wanted to go up to Vermont this weekend. She said you were welcomed to come along if you wanted."

Booth felt his girlfriend tense in his arms but he remained calm.

"A weekend away? Just the two of us?"

"Well, my parents are going to be there so we won't be completely alone. What do you say?"

Temperance pulled herself away.

"I don't know, Booth. I... We're spending so much time together lately. A weekend away is just..."

She stopped in mid-sentence, unable to find the words to voice her feelings. She was afraid. A weekend getaway made their relationship more serious and it scared her. She was getting too involved in this relationship. That was why she hadn't called him after her weekend with her brother and that's why she hadn't been completely happy to see him when he had shown up at her door earlier this evening.

Booth seemed to have sense her thoughts. She watched as hurt appeared in his eyes and she immediately began to feel guilty.

"What are you afraid of, Bones? Me? Us? What we have? There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm pretty sure you would know that by now. We've been friends for so long. You should know better by now."

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

But Booth didn't listen. He stood up and began pacing.

"Everything started out so great for us, Bones. I mean, yes, we _have_ been spending an awful lot of time together but that's what couples do, Bones. They spend time together, they have fun together. I like you a lot, Temperance, and I really enjoy spending time with you. But if it's unrequited, I don't know why we are wasting our time with this."

Temperance felt her eyes fill with water. When had he begun to have so much power over her emotions? She had always been so in control of herself but Booth had simply swept in her life and...

She looked up at him. He didn't look angry, just annoyed. She knew it was because of her. She had to admit, she had been a little mean to him lately. He was just trying to live a wonderful beginning of relationship and she was stopping him. She knew she was asking a lot of him. Hiding their relationship from everybody was hard but it was probably more painful for him than for her. She knew how he was: he loved to show the people he cared the most about how much they meant to him. He couldn't do that with her because she was stopping him. But she couldn't help it. Every time they got too close emotionally, an internal alarm immediately began to sound and she shifted into flight mode. She couldn't help it. She had been too hurt in the past to simply trust easily. Booth was supposed to know that. But she knew that she had probably used that excuse too many times for it to still work on him.

"It's not unrequited, Booth. I like spending time with you too but you have to understand, I'm not used to it. I'm not used to have someone with me 24/7. I've spent so many years alone and even when I had someone in my life, we didn't see each other very much."

"And who's fault was that, Bones? You probably have hurt so many guys in your life who truly cared about you. Sure, you've been hurt too and I understand that. You've suffered much more than most people in this world and you've walked away from it harmed but that was to be expected. But you can't live your life in the shadow of your past, Bones. If there's one thing I thought I had taught you, it was that. I guess that I failed."

He chuckled sadly.

"You're afraid of being hurt again but I swear to you that I have no intentions on doing that. You have to believe me, Bones. You have to trust me."

When she didn't say anything, he sighed loudly.

"Call me when you're ready to invest time in our relationship."

And on that, he turned around and walked out of the apartment, leaving a stunned and confused Temperance behind him.

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**Okay so how many of you feel like killing me right now? I figured this story just needed a little bit of action.**


	9. Chapter 8: One More Passenger

**A/N: Okay... so I'm still alive. Thanks guys! It's really appreciated! Bit of angst coming your way with... well... wouldn't want to ruin the chapter for you so I'll shut up!**

**By the way, for those reading "A Year in the Life of Dr. Brennan", I'll try to post tomorrow or with the chapter for the next episode. I'm just running late on my writing because of school (still trying to adjust to a new schedule).**

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He had worked to do and he knew. There were still a few phone calls he needed to do before leaving for his parents' cottage. He needed to contact the still alive (at least he hoped) passengers of the train. There were many calls to make but he just couldn't bring himself to do them. So he stared. He stared at the phone, knowing it would not make it ring yet he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Three days had gone by. Three days of staring at the phone in between interviews with the victims' relatives, friends and neighbors. In between visits to the coroner to see if maybe she hadn't overlooked a small detail. In between visits to his partner's mother's grave, the only part of his girlfriend he felt he had left. He knew how much Temperance had loved her mother and despite what they had learned over the last couple of months, he found himself liking his 'mother-in-law'. So he visited her, in hopes of, maybe, finding his girlfriend there.

He had thought about calling her a couple of times, to apologize for being so overdramatic about their situation but a flash of their fight three nights earlier made him change his mind. He could still feel her tense against him as he asked her to go up to Vermont with him over the week-end, he could still see the slight fright in her eyes as she looked at him. No, she was the one scared so she'd have to call him. He had done everything he could. She'd need to make the next few steps. But then he'd see her stunned expression, the tears in her eyes and he immediately began to feel guilty, making him reconsider, in the process, his reluctance to call her. But the vicious circle would start up once more as snapshots of their fight flashed before his eyes.

He casted one brief glance at his clock. 3:30 pm. He sighed. He was leaving for his parents' cottage in a bit more than twelve hours. He wasn't even sure if Temperance was still coming with him. He wouldn't be back until late Sunday night. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it through the weekend without at least talking to his girlfriend before he left. He sighed once more. When had dating Temperance Brennan become so complicated and painful? They had had an amazing beginning of relationship and, as much as it was hard for him not to show their friends and colleagues how much he cared about her, a small part of him did actually enjoy the sneaking around. It made him feel just like when he had gotten his first girlfriend and hadn't wanted his parents to find out. He smiled at the thought of his first girlfriend. Things had been so much less complicated back then.

Maybe he should just call it a day. He wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway. Getting up, he walked to the door, grabbed his coat and walked out of his office.

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She was staring at her computer, her eyes going over the words on her screen, her brain not registring what her eyes were seeing. It was getting harder by the minute to concentrate but Temperance forced herself to focus on her work. It was the only way she could stop thinking about Booth. The second she had spare time, her mind would go back to their fight and tears would inevitably shoot up to her eyes. She'd force them down, especially if she was in public, but in the comfort of her office, she often let them fall freely.

She'd been working for three days straight, sleeping barely three hours a night. The local police had found five bodies in a clandestine grave on the edge of a cemetery and she'd been working on these remains for the last three days. So far, she had managed to identify, successfully, three of them. The remains were all mixed up together and she had spent more than a day seperating the bones into five different piles.

She kept busy and it helped her. But today, things were different. She had managed to push the thought of Booth away for almost three days but now it kept coming back, no matter how much she tried to block it. She could still see his annoyed expression, the hurt in his eyes when he told her to call him back when she'd want to invest time in their relationship. She could still see the door closing behind him, still hear her heart beating hard against her chest.

She wanted to call him back but she was paralyzed by fear. She didn't know what to say or what to do. She had never been in such a situation before. Sure, guys had told her the same thing as Booth had but she hadn't really cared and hadn't called them back. With Booth, it was different. She _did_ want to call him but the thought of him rejecting her once more made her change her mind. What if he was still mad at her? What if he just wanted to be alone for a while? So many what if's, so few answers.

A soft knock was heard and she turned to the door. She knew it was probably Angela coming to check up on her. She had been locked inside her office for the past two hours and her best friend was probably just worried about her. Wiping violently the single tear that had managed to fall, she told the person to come in. Seconds later, Angela was stepping in through the door.

"I came to check up on you. Make sure you're okay. You've been in here for hours." Angela said, softly.

_Knew it_. Temperance thought to herself.

"I know but I'm fine, Ange. Thanks for checking up on me, though."

She turned her attention back to her computer, unable to maintain the eye contact with her best friend. She wanted desperately to ask for her friend's advice but doing that would be to tell her Booth and her were dating and she still wasn't ready for it.

"Your... eyes are bloodshot, Sweetie. That tells me you're not fine."

Temperance closed her eyes, forcing the remaining tears to go back where they came from. She opened them and turned to her best friend.

"Really, Ange, I'm _fine_."

Angela sighed lightly.

"Again, you're not _fiiine_. What's going on with you? You've been walking around like a zombie for the past three days, you've been working like a maniac _and_ locking yourself in your office for hours. You're not acting normally. What's up with that?"

Temperance sighed loudly.

"Maybe I'm just tired. It's making me act irrationally."

"Crying isn't irrational, Sweetie. It's perfectly normal, especially when you're hurting."

"I'm not hurting." Temperance managed to say before more tears shot to her eyes.

Jumping out of her seat, she quickly grabbed her coat and stormed out of her office.

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The apartment was quiet and she didn't know what she was doing there. She would be better off at the Jeffersonian, away from her bedroom, kitchen and living room where every furniture seemed to speak her boyfriend's name. But after what had happened in her office, she didn't know if she would be able to face her best friend.

She didn't know what had happened to her. The tears had simply began to fall and she knew she had attracted everybody's attention as she had made her way to the parking lot. She was pretty sure she had heard Dr. Goodman ask her where she was going but she hadn't bothered to answer. She had just needed to get away.

Sinking down in her couch, she rested her head against the back of it and closed her eyes. She immediately began to feel the dizziness you feel when you are too tired. Slowly, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

Five minutes later, she was curled up on her couch, sound asleep.

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Booth mentally went over his checklist for the weekend. His suitcase laid open on the bed in front of him, his clothes neatly folded. There wasn't anything left to pack, except for the small lunch he'd make the following morning for the road. So he closed his suitcase and dropped it on the ground.

Sitting down, he rubbed his face with his hands. He was leaving for the weekend and still hadn't spoken to his partner. He felt guilty every time he thought about leaving without talking to her first. But she hadn't called him.

Sighing frustratedely, he snatched his cellphone from his pocket. So what if she hadn't called? If she wasn't going to be mature about their whole thing, he'd have to the one. He quickly pressed her speed-dial button. A voice immediately told him that the customer he was trying to reach was not available at the moment. Hanging up, he tried the Jeffersonian. Same thing. The secretary told him that Dr. Brennan had left for the day.

He frowned. Why had Temperance left for the day? He immediately began to feel nervous. He dialed the number to her house and waited impatiently for her to pick up.

"Hi. You've reached me. Obviously I'm not here so just leave me a message."

He cursed under his breath at the sound of her answering machine. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the beep before leaving his message.

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Temperance blinked tiredly as she slowly drifted out of her slumber. The numbers on her clock slowly became more focused as the sleep drained from her eyes. 7:30. She had been asleep for three hours.

Sitting up, she stretched and yawned. Her stomach growled and she knew she'd have to fix herself something to eat. She got up and walked to her fridge. Opening it, she quickly scanned its content. Booth had done the groceries over the last weekend and, at the moment, she was thankful for his kind gesture. Taking some vegetables and some meat, she decided she'd fix herself a sandwich.

She was passing her answering machine, plate in hand, when she saw the blinking light. She pressed play.

"_One new message recorded today."_ The mechanical voice told her.

She made her way to her couch and sat down. There was a small pause before another voice spoke.

"_Hey Bones, it's me."_

Her heart immediately began to race inside her chest. Setting her plate on the coffee table, she got up and walked back to the machine.

"I don't know where you are. I tried calling your cell and the museum but I got nothing. I call here and get your answering machine. I hope you're okay."

Temperance immediately felt more tears at the back of her eyes. She sighed, frustrated. Why was Booth able to make her cry so easily?

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving for Vermont tomorrow so if you want to talk, you have until 7:00 am tomorrow morning to do it. That's if you still want to talk to me. Since I haven't heard from you since... well... you know, I'm guessing you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore. I hope that's not the reason. I hope... you've just been too busy to call me."

There was another small pause during which Temperance felt her heart beat hard in her ears. Booth had called, probably while she was asleep.

"So... umm... I just thought I'd let you know that I'll be gone over the weekend. So... call me. I really miss you."

She heard the click and immediately knew the message was over. Then, grinning, she walked off towards her bedroom.

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The last bag sat on his front porch when Booth closed the door and locked it. He was running slightly late but he didn't care. This trip didn't sound as fun as it had without his girlfriend coming with him. He had called his mother, telling her that he would make the trip alone and she had sounded slightly disappointed. Booth had had to fight the urge to tell her that it wasn't his fault that they had had an argument.

He had hoped that making the first move would have made his girlfriend realize how much she meant to him and that she would have called him back. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. He hadn't heard from her at all. As he packed the first bag into the SUV, he tried to fight the sadness rushing through him. A weekend away from Washington, away from places that reminded him of his girlfriend, was what he needed. He'd come back, stronger than when he had left, and ready to face whatever obstacles would be coming his way. Yes. This trip was definetely going to have some positive effects on him. Slightly cheered up, he stuffed the second bag onto the back seat.

The muffled sound of an engine reached his ears but he didn't bother to look up. He knew it was probably only his neighbor arriving from his graveyard shift at the hospital. So he fought with the bag that just didn't want to fall in-between the passenger's seat and the back seat. He heard a car door close just as the bag fell between the seats. Smiling triumphantly, he got out of the truck.

He could swear his heart stopped beating for a full second as his eyes fell on his partner. He couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips as he noticed the bag flung over her shoulder and the one resting at her feet.

"Bags, Bones?" He asked, his heart in his throat.

She nodded, a smile over her own trying to fight his way onto her face.

"I heard you were leaving for Vermont today. I thought maybe you'd want some company."

Her voice was small, unsure. He looked at her, tenderly. Her hair danced in the light morning breeze, making her look more beautiful than he remembered her to be. He tilted his head, as if considering her offer. A few seconds passed.

"I guess I have enough space one more passenger." He replied, his smile still not winning its place on his face.

Reaching forward, he motioned to his partner to hand over her bag. She did.

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**Aaawww! How cute! Well in my head it was, anyway! Happy now:-)**


	10. Chapter 9: On The Way Up

**A/N: Okay so I'm back. It took me such a long time to write this. I've been going through some writer's block but since I'm really enjoying writing this story, it's been kind of frustrating. Anyway, here's my latest chapter. Hope you like it. I've spooked myself out while writing it. It's currently 11:20 pm, the lights are off in my room and the end of the chapter... well... you'll just have to see for yourself! Enjoy:-)**

**One more thing before we start! I'm making a reference to another of my story called "Remember Our Promise?". It's not essential to read even if I do recommend it (after all, it _is_ my story)! It might give you additional information on Judy's character and what happened that night. Also, I have NO CLUE if trees border Interstate 89. ;-)**

* * *

The sky was slowly turning purpleish as the SUV sped into Vermont. Silence reigned in the SUV and Booth stifled a yawn, the last seven hours of driving finally getting to him. He glanced briefly at his partner beside him. She'd been asleep for the past three hours and Booth found himself feeling rather lonely. He couldn't turn on the radio, knowing that it would wake up his girlfriend and also knowing that she desperately needed the sleep. Without any music or conversation to pass the time, Booth was left to himself. So he thought. 

He thought about how lucky he had been to have his girlfriend dropping by at his house just before leaving. He was more than happy to have her with him and, suddenly, a trip to his parents' cottage didn't sound as dull, though a weekend with Judy Booth couldn't be qualified as dull. Booth smiled as he thought back to the meeting he had had with his mother and his partner.

* * *

"_Seeley!" The woman cried as she walked determinedely to the agent._

_Booth shot his partner an apologetic smile before getting up to greet the woman._

"_Mom!" he said, sounding falsely cheerful. "I didn't think you would come."_

"_Mom?" He heard his partner mumble beside him._

_He elbowed her subtly._

"_And why would you think that, Seeley?" His mother told him. "I would never pass up an opportunity to see my son. Where is my grandchild?"_

"_Umm..." Booth replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Parker isn't here, Mom. I couldn't get Rebecca to drive him over."_

_Glancing quickly at Temperance, he turned his attention back to his mother._

"_Oh. Oh well." His mother replied._

"_Uh Mom, do you want to sit down?" Booth asked, pointing at his seat._

"_Of course I... SEELEY! Who is _that_?"_

He chuckled softly. It had been rather funny to see his mother's reaction when her eyes had fallen on his partner. She had been convinced that Temperance had been his new girlfriend and she hadn't been able to hide her disappointment when Booth had told him that they were only working together. But things had definetely changed since then and Booth wondered what his mother's reaction had been when his aunt had told her about the new couple in the family.

"_I work with dead people."_

"_Like a pathologist?"_

"_Not quite. A pathologist works with corpses. I work with people's remains, when all the skin is gone and all is left are the bones."_

"_Huh... That's... nice."_

Everybody seemed to get that kind of response whenever Bones would talk about her job, the job she was so proud of. It had been her whole life for a long time and now, he could proudly say that he was her life. He smiled. He definetely felt proud. He had somehow tamed the wild and independent Temperance Brennan.

"_You know, Seeley, she almost looks like that Temperance girl we met back in Chicago."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Remember when you were six, we went to visit your aunt Muriel in Chicago and you met this adorable yet weird little girl named Temperance Brennan. You were very fond of her and I think the feeling was mutual. You two spent the entire summer together. Don't you remember, Seeley?"_

"_What did you say that little girl's name was?"_

"_Temperance Brennan. You know, Matt and Christine Brennan's daughter. Remember, she had an older brother called Ross."_

_"Russ." Booth and Temperance immediately corrected._

_"That's what I said. Ross. Don't tell me you don't remember the Brennans, Seeley. They were lovely people and your aunt's neighbors. What? Why are you guys looking at me that way?"_

Yet, no matter how many times Booth and Temperance had told her that they had met back in Chicago, Booth's mother had continued to observe that Temperance looked like the little girl they had met back at his aunt Muriel's house.

Booth smiled. That night had certainly been special. Not only had his partner met his mother, one of the women he loved the most in the entire world, despite her eccentric personality, but that night, Booth had also shared another huge part of his life: he had told her about his feelings for her. A passionate kiss had ensued and their relationship, which had changed over the months they had worked together, had blossomed into something more, something deeper than the deep trust and respect they had already had before.

He pulled over, knowing that there was something he needed to do before they got to his parents' house. He didn't feel like waiting. Not this time. He parked the SUV on the gravel on the side of the road and turned to his girlfriend. She looked peaceful asleep and Booth found himself wishing she would sleep forever if it meant she could finally find inner peace in her sleep. He reached over and gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. He felt her stir under his touch. He pulled away immediately.

* * *

It's always like that. Your brain has this way of knowing when things happen, even when you're asleep. It knows when you're getting too close to the edge of your bed, commanding you to turn in your sleep to make sure you don't fall off. It knows when it is almost time to wake up, which is why you always wake up before your alarm clock. And it also knows when a change in a vehicle's speed occurs. 

Temperance was pulled from her slumber by the SUV slowing down and, finally, coming to a stop. She kept her eyes closed, still feeling drowsy, waiting to see if maybe they had stopped at a red light. But when she felt something warm and rough come in contact with her skin, she did her best to keep her eyes closed. She felt him tug hair behind her ear and her heart immediately began to race faster. Unable to sit still any long, she shifted slightly in her seat.

She opened her eyes to find a blurry Booth looking at her. She blinked a few times before yawning. She watched as a few cars zoomed by them. On the other side of the road, she could see trees. She frowned.

"Where are we?"

"Interstate 89."

"Why are we stopped on the side of the road?"

She watched with mild anxiety as her boyfriend stared into her eyes. In his, despite the drowsiness clouding her mind, she could clearly see relief and the love he felt for her. She felt herself blush under his gaze. Why was he looking at her that way ever since she had shown up at his house earlier that day? They had only had a fight. Had he thought they had broken up? Was that why he was looking at her like that?

The hand that cupped her face dropped to her. Booth smiled and she found herself smiling back, heart racing madly in her chest.

"A few reasons." He replied, drawing small circles on the top of her hand. "First, I wanted to tell you how much it means to me that you're coming on this trip with me."

"It's hardly a trip, Booth. We're only going to your parents' cottage."

"Still. It's not like my parents' cottage is in DC. It's like five states away. You're out of your comfort zone and I'm proud of you."

He paused for a few seconds.

"And I wanted to apologize for the way I acted the other day. It was completely out of line, I was totally overdramatic about the whole thing. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Booth. I probably contributed to this fight. I was just scared, Booth. What we have is so much different from my other relationships. It scares me."

"I know."

He squeezed her hand sympathetically and smiled. Another silence ensued. Booth broke it a few seconds later.

"Are you ready to go?"

Temperance nodded.

Booth shifted into drive and pulled back onto the road.

"Are you planning granting me your awakened presence for the rest of the trip or are you going to fall asleep on me again?" Booth asked, teasingly, as he glanced briefly in his rear-view mirror.

"Very funny, Booth."

But Booth wasn't listening. Temperance turned to him and immediately noticed the frown and worry on his face.

"What's the matter, Booth?"

"This car has been following us since New Jersey." Her partner replied as he stepped on the accelerator and switching lanes.

"Are you sure it's the same car?"

Booth looked in his mirror and saw that the car was still following them but not going as fast. He passed a few more cars before pulling back into the lane he had been in previously. Five cars now seperated the two vehicles.

"I'm pretty sure it's the same car."

"Maybe he had plans to go to Vermont as well."

Booth shrugged.

"Not likely. I told you that he has been following us since New Jersey. We stopped in Connecticut for lunch. He should have been ahead of us yet he's behind us."

"Maybe he stopped for lunch after us."

"Maybe."

Temperance sighed.

"Booth, just relax. Nobody is looking to kill us."

Booth relaxed, immediately aware of how dumb he was sounding. Of course nobody was following them. The guy in the other car was probably just going to some city in Vermont as well. He slowly down.

"Let's talk about something else." Temperance said, hoping to divert his attention from the car behind them. "What are your parents like?"

Booth smiled.

"Well you've already met my mom." He said, glancing briefly at her.

Temperance smiled.

"Yeah. She's quite something. Is she still as crazy as she was when I last saw her?"

Booth chuckled.

"She's as crazy as she was when I was six, Bones. She hasn't changed a bit. But I think she's always been like that: crazy, energetic, charismatic. That's mommy. She wrote jingles for a living. Have I ever told you that?"

Temperance nodded.

"Oh. Okay. I spent my childhood listening to funny songs my mom made up for publicity agencies. She was really good at it. My friends simply loved her. They thought she was the coolest mom in the entire world."

"I know. You told me. How's your dad?"

"Dad's the opposite of Mom. He was in the army, his father was in the army, his grandfather was in the army. You get the idea. He grew up in a rather serious family. No stand-comics on my dad's side, let me tell you that."

Temperance smiled.

"He was raised by slaps behind the head and belt whips. It made him tough. You'll see. He rarely ever smiles. He was always the serious one in our family. When we did something wrong, Jared and I, we never went to see my dad. We went to see our mom. She was more compassionate and understanding. Dad was strict. He expected the best of us all the time. He's the one who forced me to enroll in the army. Well... I wasn't forced. Dad raised us to be proud of our country and to defend it. So I wasn't completely against following in his footsteps. But when I got out of the army, my dad was really disappointed in me and he didn't speak to me for years after that. We only started speaking recently, maybe two or three years ago, after he had a heart attack."

Temperance tried to picture both of Booth's parents together but found it impossible to do. She couldn't understand how two so different people could get married and live together for so many years.

"How did your parents meet?"

"They met at a family reunion."

Temperance frowned which made Booth laugh.

"I know what you're thinking but no. My parents aren't related. You see, my father was seeing this other woman before he met my mom. I forgot her name. Anyway, she was my mother's cousin or something like that. They were gathered to celebrate my mom's grandparents' wedding anniversary. Dad says he saw her from across the room and that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She was laughing and having a good time and he just felt attracted to her. He skipped some details because Jared and I told him we didn't want him to make the story gross. Well, somehow over the night, they got to talking and they have been together ever since.

They complete one another. My mother's the crazy, energetic and fun one and my dad is the more serious, strict one. They might be two extremes alone but together, they really balance it out. I find that, together, they made the best parents. They weren't perfect but then again, if they had been perfect, they wouldn't have been called parents. I mean, I know that as a parent, I'm not perfect. I'm not afraid to admit it. But my parents, they were pretty close to perfection. Together, I mean."

Temperance nodded.

"I'm sorry, I've been talking for a while now."

"It's okay, Booth. I enjoyed listening to you talk about your parents. I can't wait to meet them."

"They'll love you. I just know they will."

"People usually don't like me the first time they meet me."

"Okay... so my parents will find you weird. Big deal! They'll get past it, don't worry. My mom is pretty open-minded, she loves all people. My dad, well, he's different. But with my mom on your side, I assure you that he's going to change his mind pretty quickly about you."

"Are all Booth men so easily brainwashed?" Temperance asked, teasingly.

"When we're crazily in love, we'll go to great lengths to please our woman."

He turned to her and smiled tenderly. She smiled before turning back to the window. Yes. She could say in all honesty that she couldn't wait to meet her boyfriend's parents. With Booth by her side, there was nothing to be scared of.

* * *

The sun had long set when Booth pulled into the small driveway of his parents' cottage. Everything was dark except for the porch light and the small glow of a lamp through the living room curtains. He parked the SUV behind his father's pick-up truck and turned off the ignition. 

Through the rolled-up windows, Booth could already hear the crickets singing in the silence of the night. He looked over at his partner who was staring intently at the cottage. He gently squeezed her forearm. Her head jerked in his direction.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me."

"Are you ready to go in?" He asked, glancing at the cottage.

Temperance took a deep breath before nodding.

"Let's go then."

They were climbing out of the vehicle when the front door to the cottage opened. Temperance looked up to see an older woman stepping out on the porch, slippers in her feet. She squinted in the dark, trying desperately to make out the bizarre appearance of the woman's hair.

"Seeley, is that you?"

"Yes, Mom. It's me." Booth said as he crossed over on Temperance's side and walked towards the porch.

A man suddenly appeared behind the woman and Temperance immediately recognized him as Booth's father. The two of them looked absolutely alike and Temperance immediately saw where Booth had gotten his good looks. For an older man, Mr. Booth was fairly attractive, she had to admit.

"Who's with you, son?" Raymond Booth asked into the darkness.

Booth pulled his girlfriend beside him and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Mom, Dad, I'd like to introduce you to my new girlfriend. Her name is Temperance Brennan, she's also my work partner."

"FBI?" Raymond asked.

"Forensic anthropologist. I work with..."

But Temperance was cut off by Booth. He didn't feel like having this conversation out on the porch.

"Why don't we finish this conversation inside, huh? We'll unload the truck, get settled and then we'll talk."

The three of them nodded. Raymond walked down the steps and joined his son at the SUV. He glanced briefly at the woman accompanying his son, immediately deciding that she looked prettier than the other girls his son had introduced to them. He smiled at the way the two of them looked at each other. Yes, he could tell that his son was happy with this new woman.

He grabbed the bag the woman's bag, telling her that he got it and that he'd bring her belongings into the house and Temperance found out where Booth had gotten his chivalry behavior.

The three adults walked back to the porch where they met Booth's mother. And as the older woman stepped into the house and the lights illuminated her, Booth couldn't help the comment that escaped him.

"Blue, Mom?"

"What?" Judy asked, innocently. "I got tired of the grey."

Booth chuckled, rolling his eyes. He turned to his dad.

"Why did you let her do that?"

"You try controlling your mother, son."

Temperance followed behind the Booths, smiling as she listened to the family's conversation. Yes, this was going to be a rather interesting weekend.

* * *

The silver sports car finally came to a stop. He wasn't sure where he was. Everything was dark, the stars and the moon were covered by thick clouds and there wasn't a single house in the area. Dark figures seemed to glide all around here, making the man regret his decision to drive up to this spot. Maybe a lighted parking lot would have been better. 

Picking up his cell phone, the man dialed the number he was beginning to know by heart. Putting it to his ear, he waited for the other to pick up. He didn't have to wait too long.

"Yes?" A hoarse voice asked.

A muffled noise was heard in the background.

"I'm here."


	11. Chapter 10: Robert Wilson

**A/N: FINALLY! I've been waiting for ages to post this chapter. Seems like my writer's block is gone! Yay! Enjoy:-)**

* * *

She could hear the muffled sound of activity happening downstairs but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. The room was slightly cold, but it was to be expected in October, and the blankets over her formed a warm cocoon she didn't want to leave. The space beside her was empty and she knew that Booth was probably the one making all that noise in the kitchen. She could also hear Booth's parents talking but she figured they were in the living room.

She sighed happily as she turned over on her side, clutching at the blankets. She thought back to the previous night. Judy had kept a bit of their dinner just for them, knowing that they would probably be hungry when they'd arrive. She had asked Temperance many questions, questions that she already knew the answer too but had probably forgotten due to the amount of alcohol she had consumed the last time they had met, and Temperance had answered them all. She could see Booth's father from the corner of the eye, examining her, deciding whether or not he liked her. So far, Booth seemed pretty confident that his father would come to appreciate her but Temperance didn't get her hopes up. Most parents she met didn't like her and found her weird. Then again, beside Booth's blue-haired mother, _anybody_ would seem normal.

She chuckled at the thought. Judy had dyed her hair blue. Never, in her entire life, had she seen something like that. She had had to fight the comment that had been tempted to slip from her mouth but one glare from Booth had made her keep quiet.

She turned onto her back. Maybe she ought to get up. She was obviously too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears and she immediately recognized them. She kept her eyes closed, waiting to see what was going to happen.

She heard the bedroom door open slowly and Booth curse under his breath as a part of him hit the wall. A small smile tugged at her lips at imagining what had just happened.

The footsteps got closer until she felt the bed move under the weight of him. She knew he had sat down. She pretended to be asleep as his hand ran over the side of her face, cupping her cheek and the thumb of his hand making gentle circle on her face. Unable to remain motionless any longer, she turned her head and gently kissed the palm of his hand.

She opened her eyes to find him admiring her and she felt herself blush under his gaze. Never had a man looked at her that way before and she found that, even though it made her feel self-conscious, she liked the feeling. She smiled sleepily at him. He smiled back.

"Morning." He whispered.

"Morning."

Her voice was groggy. She cleared her throat.

"What time is it?"

"Ten thirty."

"This late?" Temperance said as she sat up abruptly.

Booth chuckled.

"Yes, Bones, but you can relax. You're not late for work. We still have all day. There, I brought you breakfast."

Surprised she hadn't seen the tray resting on her boyfriend's lap, she eagerly picked it up. Her stomach growled in anticipation. She hadn't even realized she was starving. As she picked up her fork, she felt Booth shift on the bed. She glanced at him to see him lie down beside her.

"What time were you up?"

"Eight. You were still sleeping. I figured I wouldn't wake you since it's practically the only time you sleep."

The comment earned him a glare and a small slap on the shoulder. He couldn't care less.

"Eat up. There are some things we need to do today."

"Like what? I thought you said we had all day."

"We do but my parents asked me if we could drive into town and get some groceries. Apparently, we're kicked out of the house after noon and shouldn't come back until five."

Temperance raised her eyebrows as she took a bite of toast.

"And what are we supposed to do during those five hours?"

Booth propped himself on his elbow.

"I thought we could go hiking. There's a place I want to show you. I've been going there since I was six years old. I brought Parker the last time we came here but he wasn't as excited as I was about the place. But I think you'll like it."

"Okay." Temperance replied, nodding.

* * *

"Have fun you two!" Judy waved from the front porch as Temperance and Booth climbed in the SUV.

Temperance looked up to see the blue-haired woman grinning and waving madly. And, even as Booth pulled out of the driveway and drove away, Temperance could see her waving until they had disappeared from her sight. She chuckled.

"What's the matter?"

"Your mom... she's funny."

Booth smiled.

"Glad to know you like her."

"Yeah. She's nice. And so is your dad."

"I heard the two of them talking about you this morning. My dad seems to like you a lot."

"Really?" Temperance asked, surprised.

"Yeah. My dad is usually picky about the girls I bring back so consider yourself lucky. Rebecca was the last of my girlfriends that he actually liked but since she's preventing him from seeing his grandchild, I think he's lost most respect for her."

Temperance nodded.

"Are things better with you and Rebecca?"

Booth shrugged.

"A bit, I guess. I mean, she lets me see Parker a lot more now and not only once a month. Rebecca is going away for two days this week, so I have him Wednesday and Thursday nights. Want to spend some time with us?"

Anxiety immediately paralyzed her and she found herself looking for an exit. Spend time with Booth's child? No, she couldn't do it. She wasn't good with children, she'd terrify the boy. She glanced at her partner who, fortunately for her, was staring straight ahead.

"I don't know, Booth. I mean, you don't get to see your son very much. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't wanted you to be there. Come on, Bones. It'll be fun. Parker already likes you. Remember last Christmas? He asked me if the 'pretty lady' was my girlfriend and he was disappointed when I told him that we were only work partners. He even asked me why you were alone on Christmas and he wanted you to come over. But I told him that you already had other plans."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised every time I tell you someone likes you? You're not as repulsive as you think you are, Bones. Some people would actually love to get to know you but you just keep pushing them away."

"Are we actually going to have this conversation again?" Temperance asked, anger shooting through her veins.

She glared at him. He backed off.

"Sorry." She heard him mumble.

_That's better._ She thought to herself.

"How far away is this town?"

"About fifteen minutes. You'll see, it's pretty small. I'm surprised they even have a grocery store."

Temperance chuckled before turning to the window and staring out at the scenery. She had to admit, this place was pretty nice. The leafs in the trees had turned red and most of them were now laying on the ground. She'd never say it enough: Vermont was really nice this time of year.

* * *

"Okay, someone's hungry." Booth said as Temperance placed yet another item in the cart.

"If we don't eat it all, we'll just bring it back with us."

Booth picked up the latest added item.

"Pop Tarts, Bones?" He asked, looking at her quizzically.

"It's for Parker." She replied, snatching the box from his hand and placing it back down in the cart.

"Whatever you say, Bones." Booth replied as he turned the corner into the next aisle. "I think we have everything we need."

"Yep." Bones replied as she looked around at the food on the shelves.

The sun was now shinning brightly after a rather cloudy morning and a twinkle outside the store window caught her attention. She turned to find a silver sports car parked ahead of them. She nudged her partner.

"Booth."

"Yeah?" He asked, turning to her.

His eyes followed her gaze until it settled the sports car. His eyes immediately narrowed.

"You have _got_ to be kidding." He said as he pushed the cart closer to the cash registers.

The cashier looked at him weirdly as she scanned his items. Booth's eyes never left the car and, as he made eye contact with the driver sitting in the front seat, a million questions ran through his mind. Who was the man? What was he doing here? Had he followed them? He turned to look at his girlfriend and saw the same questions in her eyes. Who was this mystery person?

"It'll be 120.29$ please."

Booth's head snapped to the cashier.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The cashier forced herself not to roll her eyes.

"I said it'll be 120.29$."

Booth fumbled around in his pocket and took out his credit card. He handed it the young woman.

Minutes later, they were stepping out of the store. The man had somehow disappeared from his car but Booth didn't bother to look for him. But when he spotted him near the entrance of the store after putting away the groceries in the SUV, he determinedely walked towards him, the look on his face menacing. The man didn't move an inch. Booth shoved him against the wall.

"Are you done following us?" Booth barked at the man.

The stranger didn't flinch.

"I'm not following you."

"Sure you are. You've been everywhere we went ever since New Jersey. I want to know why."

"I haven't been following you, Agent Booth."

Booth's eyes widened in surprise and the stranger chuckled.

"How do you know my name?"

"If you let me go, I'll tell you." The stranger replied, smugly.

Booth's arms, which had been helding the man captive, didn't move. Booth examined the man. He was tall, as tall as he was, and his brown hair and brown eyes made him look like the most common man on the planet. A scar ran down the side of his forehead, an indicator to Booth that the man had been roughed up some time in his life.

Booth inched his face closer to the man's.

"Who are you?" He asked, menacingly.

"Let me go and I'll tell you everything I know."

Booth gave him a questionning look.

"Everything I know about the case you're currently working on."

Booth backed away, surprised.

"What case?"

The stranger smiled.

"Robert Wilson." The man replied, extending his hand for Booth to shake it.

But when the agent didn't, Wilson pulled his hand back. His jaw tightened and his eyes grew cold. Making eye contact with the federal agent, he began to speak.

"The Binghams, Ian Shelley, Hannah Kennan, they're all related. Their death are not coincidental. All of them were planned. But I'm pretty sure you knew that already."

"How do you know?" Booth asked, never breaking the eye contact.

"The Mesas are next." Wilson continued, ignoring Booth's question. "If I were you, I'd focus my attention on Vince Baker."

"How do you--?"

"Know? Simple." The man replied, an evil smile spreading on his face. "I was there."

"You were where?"

"That's for you to find out, Agent Booth."

Booth watched as the man walked away and nodded curtly to Brennan, who was still standing near the SUV. Booth took a second to compose himself before walking back to his girlfriend. Upon seeing her questioning look, he told her to get in the car. She did as she was told.

Booth stayed quiet the whole ride back. His mind kept replaying the whole conversation in his mind. He could feel his girlfriend's eyes on him but he ignored her. It wasn't until they reached the dirt road leading to the cottage that Temperance forced him to talk to her.

"Who was he? What did he say to you?"

"He told me his name was Robert Wilson and he said that we should focus our energy on a man called Vince Baker. He said that the Mesas would be next and when I asked him how he knew, he told me he was there."

"He was where?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me. He only said that I'd have to find out on my own."

"That's odd."

"Tell me about it."

Booth pulled into the driveway and parked the SUV behind his parents' car. Turning off the ignition, he turned to his girlfriend. A thought seemed to struck Brennan as she turned to face him as well.

"How did he know you were working on that case?"

Booth sighed.

"I don't know but you know what?"

"What?"

Booth slowly leaned in and captured her lips with his. Temperance felt herself melt and she brought her arms around his neck. She whimpered at the brush of his tongue against hers and just as the kiss was getting intense, she felt her boyfriend pull away.

"Whatever happened today can wait until Monday to be analyzed. I want this weekend to be crime-free. So how about we unload the groceries, put the food away, prepare a small picnic and go hiking?"

A smile spread over Temperance's face.

"I would like that."

Giving her one more quick kiss, Booth added:

"Good."

* * *

**Ha ha ha! See you in Chapter 11:-)**


	12. Chapter 11: Of Food and Conversations

**A/N: Okay, here's an extra long chapter to make up for my lack of update this past week. It's a bit long but I really hope you will bare with me for two reasons: first of all because it's filled with romantic BB interaction and second of all because I have a BIG SURPRISE for those who will read the entire thing. So no peaking at the end! Read the whole thing!**

* * *

The sun had long disappeared behind thick gray clouds when Temperance and Booth finally reached the top of the second-to-last trail of the mountain. Their harsh breathing and their pants filled the air and the bag with their picnic Booth was carrying was beginning to feel heavier by the seconds. 

Exhausted from their hour long hike up the mountain, Temperance sat down on a large rock, elbows on her knees, trying desperately to catch her breath.

"How much further up?" she asked in between pants.

Booth looked up briefly at the top of the mountain. They were close. From where he stood, he could see his little secret haven. He turned back to his girlfriend. Her hair was slightly messy from the climb, her cheeks had turned red from the exercise but even so, he thought she looked like the most beautiful woman on the planet. He smiled.

"One more trail. Five to seven minutes of walking."

Temperance groaned. Her legs felt like jello from the climb and she was pretty sure she was going to be sore for the next week after all this workout. She looked up at her partner to find him staring down at her. Who cared about the soreness? Being with Booth was making it all worth while. On that thought, she got up and walked up to the edge of the slope.

"I can't believe people actually climb to the top of the mountain often enough to actually make a natural trail."

Booth chuckled.

"Yeah well, you'll understand one we're up there."

Temperance nodded and was about to start her ascension of the last trail when an arm grabbed hers and stopped her. She turned around to find Booth looking at her somewhat disapprovingly.

"What?" Temperance asked, confused.

A small grin stretched on her lover's face as he slowly leaned in towards her. Their lips met for a second before she felt him pull away. She slowly opened her eyes. The grin was still there and his eyes were looking at her softly.

"Now we may go." Booth said as he began walking.

Temperance smiled and shook her head before turning around and following him.

More branches and leaves cracked under their feet as they continued their ascension. They walked in comfortable silence, simply wanting to enjoy each other's company and the nature surrounding them. Every once in a whle, eyes would meet and shy smiles would be exchanged. Hands and arms would brush, sending shivers down each person's spine.

But after a minute or two of silence, Temperance grew wary of being quiet and voiced the question that was plaguing her mind.

"How did you ever get Parker all the way up there?"

Booth chuckled softly.

"I carried him like three-quarters of the way. On my shoulders. Let me tell you, I was _so_ tired when I got to the top that we actually spent the entire day there. Parker explored while I rested. Fortunately for me, going down hill is easier. He walked all the way even though I had to carry him to the cottage once we had reached the road because he was too tired to go on."

Temperance nodded before a wicked grin spread over her face.

"I'm tired. Want to carry me up the slope?"

Booth turned around, unsure if she was being serious or was simply taking a feeble stab at telling a joke. From the look on her face, he was still undecided.

Temperance giggled.

"Kidding, Booth."

Booth smiled before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. He kissed the top of her head.

"You'll like what you'll see up there, Bones. I guarantee it. We'll eat lunch, maybe lie around for a while than we'll climb back down."

Temperance frowned.

"But I thought we were locked out of the cottage for the whole afternoon."

Booth checked his watch.

"It's almost two in the afternoon. We don't have much time until the end of the afternoon, Bones."

"I wonder what your parents are doing at the moment." Temperance said, thoughtfully.

Booth shrugged.

"I don't know."

* * *

"Hurry up, Raymond! The kids are going to be home any minute now!" Judy yelled from the bottom of the stairs. 

"Relax, Judy, for Pete's sake." Raymond answered from the second floor as he finished putting on his shirt.

"Sorry but I just want everything to be perfect, which includes us not being in the house."

Raymond rolled his eyes.

"I know. You told a zillion times."

He watched in mild amusement as his wife became to jump up and down as she clapped her hands and squealed.

"It's going to be _too_ perfect for them. They'll have the whole cottage to themselves and... and..."

Raymond stepped up to his wife, catching her small hands and holding them between his big strong ones.

"Did I marry a teenager?" He asked before kissing her quickly on the lips. "Because it somehow looks like I did."

"What gives it away?" Judy asked as she released her captive hands from between her husband's and walked to the door.

"I think it's the blue hair." Raymond answered, opening the door.

* * *

"BOOTH!" Temperance screamed as she ran faster down the slope.

A growl behind her made her shriek and speed up even more. She heard the stomping behind her and a pair of arms wrapped themselves tightly around her, holding her captive. She shrieked again.

"Gotcha!" A voice growled behind her.

Temperance giggled, partially out of breath from the running. She pushed herself into the man holding you and she heard him moan softly. She did it again.

"Stop it, Bones." Booth warned, strengthening the hold he had on her.

"Why?"

She felt a pair of lips at the back of her neck. She shivered. Booth smiled against her skin.

"That's why." He replied.

He feather-lighly kissed his way to the side of her neck and gently turned her around in his embrace. His lips eventually found hers and they soon locked themselves in a fiery, passion-filled, kiss. Hands explored freely before stopping at their regular spot: Booth's on her waist and Temperance's at the back of his head.

A branch cracking brought Temperance back to reality. She pulled away abruptly.

"Booth, stop it." She said, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the noise.

Booth kissed his way down her face to her neck once again. She tried feebly to push him away but found that her body refused to cooperate. She whimpered quietly.

"Booth..." She warned.

"You started it." Booth replied against her skin.

"Yes and I'm ending it." Temperance added, succeeding in pushing him away this time.

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"Technically," he replied, "ending it would include me in y..."

Temperance blushed in spite of herself.

"Yeah, Booth. I get it. What time is it?"

Another branch cracked in the distance.

"Close to six."

"We've been gone for that long?"

Booth grinned.

"Well, time just flies by where you're having fun."

He wiggled his eyebrows. Temperance rolled her eyes but still unable to fight the smile spreading over her face. She shook her head.

"Come on. Let's go home. I'm starving and your parents are probably waiting for us."

The couple stepped out of the forest and onto the gravel road. They walked in silence, hand-in-hand. Temperance was lost in her thoughts. She couldn't erase the image of the lake and the red- and orange-coloured tress in the distance.

The view had been amazing from Booth's special spot. She had been able to see miles in front of her. She had seen the lake crystalling under the late afternoon sun (which had gotten wary of hiding behind the clouds the second they had reached the top of the mountain), the forest of colour stretch before her eyes for miles. She had spent maybe fifteen minutes in Booth's embrace simply admiring the view. They had had their little picnic than had taken a much needed power nap, Temperance snuggled up against her partner.

Temperance sighed. This had been one afternoon she was surely never going to forget. She had never been the romantic type but she couldn't say she hadn't enjoyed the romantism of their time alone in the mountain. She looked up at Booth and smiled. She felt happy. All these years of pushing him away had only caused her to miss out on what she was letting herself live and feel right now. And, at this precise moment, she couldn't understand why she had done such a thing.

"It's rude to stare, Bones." Booth said softly before slowly turning to her.

A smile tugged his lips.

"Sorry." Temperance mumbled before looking away, not catching the sarcasm in his voice.

Booth pulled her to him.

"I was just kidding, babe. You can stare at me all you want."

The small cottage soon appeared from in-between the pine trees. Booth frowned as he noticed that all the lights in the house had been turned off. He quickened his pace a little.

"Booth, what's wrong?" Temperance asked, becoming slightly nervous by her partner's behavior.

But Booth didn't answer her. Instead, he began jogging towards the cottage. She followed behind him.

Stepping onto the porch, Booth quickly scanned the doorknob. Intact. He frowned. He looked in the driveway. Their car was still there. His frown deepened. Opening the door, he stepped inside the warmness of the cottage.

"Mom? Dad?" He immediately called out.

No response. He turned to his partner. Temperance shrugged at his silent question. She had no idea where his parents were.

"You take the first floor. I'll take the second."

Temperance nodded. She watched as Booth began to climb the stairs. She had a feeling he was overreacting but, then again, she doubted Booth's parents would simply leave the house without leaving a note or something. Booth never left her apartment without writing her something and she knew he must have gotten that from his mother.

She began looking for a note. She checked the small table beside the door but found nothing. She stepped into the cozy living room. Her eyes quickly scanned the place. Zip. She turned her attention to the kitchen. The lights were off. Her hand followed the wall until she finally reached the switch. She stepped into the tiny room and her eyes immediately fell on the dinning room table just outside the kitchen. Her jaw dropped.

"SEELEY!"

His first name fell from her lips without warning. Surprised at herself for calling him by his first name, she blamed it on the fact she was too shocked by what she was seeing for calling him normally.

She heard her boyfriend running down the stairs and felt him collide with her back two seconds later. He grasped her shoulders to stop her from falling from the shock and Temperance felt his hold tightened, telling her that his eyes had fallen on the table as well.

"What in the world...?" Booth said as he slowly walked to the already-set table.

Two plates laid on the table, along with two wineglasses, napkins, cutlery and three white candles. A small pack of matches laid beside one of them. A sigh ressembling laughter escaped him.

His eyes set on the note laying in a plate. He picked it up and immediately recognized his mother's writing.

_Gone to the Flamhaff's. Should be back by midnight. Dinner is in the oven. All you need is to heat a little. Love you. Mom._

Booth chuckled softly before turning to his girlfriend.

"Up for a romantic dinner, Bones?"

* * *

The fire crackled and spat as Temperance sat a blanket set on the ground by her partner. She watched, wrapped in a warm and way-too-big sweatshirt as Booth threw more wood into the already gigantic fire. 

"I think that's enough wood, Booth."

He turned to face her, a grin on his face. He winked before throwing one last lumber and joining her on the blanket. Laying down on his back, he beckoned her to come closer. She willingly snuggled up against him, head on his chest and arm thrown over him. His own hand came to rest on her hip.

"That was pretty nice of your mother to cook us dinner." Temperance said, moving closer to her boyfriend for a more comfortable position.

"It was nicer of them to leave." Booth teased in response.

Temperance chuckled.

"Have they ever done that before?"

"No. I'm actually surprised my mom thought of doing that. They must like you more than I thought."

"You sound surprised."

"No, Bones. I'm not surprised. You can be very loveable when you let yourself be. It's just that after Rebecca, my parents had trouble accepting my other girlfriends."

Temperance shifted slightly.

"How many girlfriends did you have after Rebecca?"

"Three."

"Tell me about them."

Booth lifted his head and looked down at the woman in his arms.

"Are you sure?"

Temperance nodded. Booth lowered his head back down.

"It took me maybe a year before I started dating after Rebecca and I broke up. One day, I met this woman. Her name was Camille Saroyan. She was a bit like you: independent, strong, motivated. She just loved her work."

"What did she do?"

Booth smiled.

"She was our FBI pathologist for quite some time."

"So you met her through work?"

"Yeah. We started seeing each other and we had what we could call an affair. She wasn't married or anything. We just didn't have enough time to invest in a real relationship. She was really work-focused and took her job very seriously. One day, she got a job offer from an Institute in Miami and she took it. We broke it off after being together for nearly a year."

Temperance felt her heart begin to race. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to ask about his past relationships. A mixture of hate and insecurity attacked her. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was actually jealous of a woman who was on the other side of the country. She immediately calmed down at the thought this Camille woman was far away.

"Then what happened?"

"I stayed single for another year. I mean, I dated but I never met a woman I felt really attracted to. I had my son every once in a while so I felt like it was I needed. Then I met Tessa."

"Sexy?" Temperance asked, calling the lawyer by the nickname she had given her.

Booth chuckled.

"Yes. _Sexy_. We dated for about a year, on and off, even though it was mostly on near the time you and I met. We were practically living together."

"What happened between you and Tessa? I mean, one day I catch you guys after sex and like a month later, you tell me that she called off the vacation you two were supposed to take. After that, I never heard or saw her again."

Booth pulled his girlfriend closer to him.

"She was actually jealous of you. She thought that you and I were having sort of like an affair or something. Things had been rather rough between us from the moment she met you until we broke off our relationship. She became really jealous and insecure, always mentionning you in conversations. The day she called off our trip was the last time I heard from her. I didn't try to call her back and she didn't give a call either. That's how it ended."

"Huh. And who was the third one?"

Booth smiled.

"You."

Temperance smiled before kissing him on his chest.

"You're the best one of all. It took a while for us together but I think it was worth the wait."

A short silence ensued, quickly broken by Booth.

"How about you? Tell me about your previous relationships."

"Oh nothing much to say. There was Pete whom I was with for about three years. We broke up because the year I started working with you because things simply just doesn't work out anymore. Before that, there was Michael."

"Ah yes. Michael, the professor. Sleeping with his student. So not professional."

Temperance smacked him on the chest. Booth chuckled.

"Do go on, Bones."

"We broke up for good well... you know when... Later on, I met David. We sorta hit it off. I actually found him really cute."

"Oh I know. I remember."

Temperance looked up and glared at him.

"Don't get all jealous and protective on me. It was bad enough you did that back then with David."

"Sorry."

"Anyway. That didn't last very long either. He found that I worked too much and he somehow thought you had too much influence on me. So we both agreed to break up."

"How long were you two together for?"

"Six months, maybe seven. I don't know. I didn't really count."

Booth nodded.

The fire crackled in front of them, envelopping the couple in a warm and invisible blanket. Stars sparkled above their heads. A soft breeze blew over the lake, making the water ripple and tiny waves splash across the shore. Temperance sighed happily. She could really get used to this proximity. In Booth's arms, she felt secure and loved, a feeling she hadn't had in the longest time. She pressed her hand on her boyfriend's heart and felt it sped up. She wondered what he was thinking as she slowly closed her eyes.

Booth closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling going through him at having his partner, friend and girlfriends pressed against him. He brought his hand gently up and down at her side, feeling her shiver against him. Getting a little bolder, his hand disappeared under her shirt. Her skin was soft and warm. He winced slightly at the feeling he instantly felt inside of him. The love he had for her had grown immensely over the last few days and he was only beginning to realize it now. He felt his heart began to race. Around him, all the nightly noises seemed to drown. It was only her and him. He took a deep breath.

"Temperance?" He whispered, softly.

"Yeah?"

Her voice was equally soft.

"I love you."


	13. Chapter 12: Back From Vermont

**A/N: Haven't seen last night's episode yet but from what I read on the Bones forum, some of the fics here and the "Behind the Story" on the Bones official website, I felt like I had to write this chapter quickly. Seems like a lot of you are pissed at Booth for sleeping with Cam (I am too) but for those who haven't read the Behind the Story yet, it says that putting Booth in bed with Cam (or starting a relationship, forgot which one they used) sets up "the table for many lies to come as the season progresses" (Fox Broadcasting Comapny: Bones, 2006) (wow, feels like I'm writing an essay here!). Anyway, we'll just how it goes but I admit not liking the sound of it.**

**So to make up for it, here's a ¾ fluffy chapter just for you!

* * *

**

Her smile seemed plastered for ever on her face as Temperance stepped in the Medico-Legal Lab on this cold October Monday morning. Despite the tiredness she felt (Booth and her had arrived late the previous night and there hadn't been much sleeping once at home), she felt energetic and carefree like she hadn't felt in years and she owed it all to her partner. They had spent a wonderful weekend, despite the mysterious man who had followed then all the way up to Vermont.

She saw the bizarre looks her coworkers sent her way as she headed towards her office. She was an hour late for work, something she had never done since she had started working at the Jeffersonian but she couldn't care less at the moment. She was happy and it's all that mattered.

The stares followed her all the way to her office. Unlocking the door, she glanced briefly behind her to see if her best friend hadn't followed her. Surprisingly, Angela remained out of sight. Opening the door, she stepped into her office and immediately headed to her desk. Sitting down in her chair, she turned on her computer and took out folders and binders out of her bag.

Minutes later, Temperance was logging into her e-mail account. Twenty new messages were waiting for her. Clicking on the first one, she hoped that the messages hadn't been too urgent. She fought the feeling of guilt that threatened to sour her happy mood. She had had the right to go on a small vacation and not spend her entire weekend at the lab and she shouldn't feel guilty about it, she told herself.

Two e-mails from her editor reminding her she had a deadline to meet, two from her brother asking her if she felt like going to North Carolina next month, a couple from colleagues scattered across the world asking her to help them with their research and one from the rector of an university in California asking her to call him to give him the answer about the conference she had been asked to give. Going back to the first e-mail, she clicked reply.

She was in the middle of writing back to her brother when a knock was heard. Not taking her eyes off the screen, she told the person to come in. Seconds later, the door was opening. She turned around and couldn't fight the smile that immediately spread from ear-to-ear.

"Booth!" She said, surprised, as she got up.

Closing the door behind him with his foot, he reached for his girlfriend and, with both arms, brought her close to him. Temperance sighed as she brought her arms around his neck. A quick kiss is exchanged, the notion that they are standing in Brennan's office in the middle of the day very present in their minds.

"Hey you." He whispered as he gathered her into a hug. "I missed you."

"I left home twenty minutes ago." She replied, pulling away to look at him.

"I know. But twenty minutes is a very long time."

Disengaging herself from his embrace, she took a few steps back. She didn't want to risk someone walking into her office and seeing them in each other's arms. She wasn't quite there yet.

"You're not a very patient man, Booth."

Then, beaming at him, she added:

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was on my way to talk to some of William Bingham's neighbors to see if maybe any of them actually remember something from the night Bingham died and I was wondering if you would like to come with."

"Sorry, Booth, but I can't. I have some work here. We have these remains to analyze for a museum in Egypt that need to be shipped back in a couple of weeks."

"Oh." Booth replied, obviously disappointed.

Temperance immediately began to feel bad. Wrapping her arms around his neck once again, she kissed him tenderly.

"But I can make it up to you."

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"Really? How?"

"How about we go out for dinner tonight and then go back to my place?"

Booth smiled.

"Sounds like a plan."

Their lips were only breath away when a loud knock reached their ears. They stepped back just in time as Angela stepped in her best friend's office. Her eyebrows raised as her eyes went from the doctor to the FBI agent and seemed to ask a question that no doubt was burning on her lips.

"Booth. What a pleasant surprise. Haven't seen you around for a while. What have you been up to?" The artist asked, glancing briefly at her best friend.

"Nothing much. The mystery serial killer case is taking much of my time."

Angela nodded, a grin on her face.

"I bet other things are keeping you busy as well, right Seeley?"

Booth ignored her comment and turned to his girlfriend.

"See you later, Bones."

"Yeah." Temperance replied. "Bye."

With one last smile, Booth walked out of his office.

Angela watched him leave until he was out of sight before turning to her best friend, her grin larger than it had been only seconds earlier.

"Okay, Brennan. Tell me _everything_."

Temperance avoided her best friend's gaze. She turned around and sat back down at her desk.

"What's to say?"

Angela sat down on the couch.

"Well, for starters, you can explain to me why I almost caught the two of you kissing."

Temperance felt her face grow warm.

"We weren't going to kiss."

"Yeah... and I'm the queen of England."

"I don't know what that means."

Angela rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she couldn't understand how her best friend, as smart as she was, could act so clueless at times.

"It means that I don't believe you, sweetie. Even _you_ should know that. Come on, Bren. Fess up. What's going on between you and that hunk of an FBI agent?

Temperance sighed. It pained her to have to lie to her best friend like that. Angela had always been so supportive and so kind to her. But she just wasn't ready. As much as she loved the artist, she also knew what her reaction would be like if she ever found out about her relationship with Booth. Angela had been the first one to want them together and now that it had happened, she would never leave them alone. Temperance and Booth would always feel watched and she just didn't want that. She wanted to live her beginning of relationship with her partner as quietly as possible. If things didn't work out, at least she wouldn't have to face the sympathy and pity of others.

"Nothing is going on, Angela."

"Then why did he stop by this morning?"

"He stopped by to ask me if I wanted to tag along for one of his little investigation round. I told him I couldn't go."

Angela gaped.

"_You_ refused to go do some investigating with Booth?"

"Yeah well... I had other things to do. Anyway, I saw him all weekend."

The words had slipped out of her mouth before she could stopped them. She looked up at her best friend, wide-eyed, sure that she'd been caught. But Angela had simply raised her eyebrows once again. Temperance sighed inwardly.

"You _saw_ him all weekend?"

"Yeah." Temperance replied, as if seeing her partner over the weeked was as common as rain. "We went up to Vermont to talk to the Shelleys. We also met up with this man called Robert Wilson who told us that the next people to be killed would be the Mesas."

"Who?" Angela asked, frowning and forgetting that her best friend had gone on a road trip with her partner.

"The Mesas. Booth said that they were a couple present on the train. He also said he'd try to find them, maybe put them into a kind of security house or something until we find the killer."

"Wow. It must have been a pretty interesting weekend."

"It was." Temperance replied.

She blushed as the double-meaning of her response dawned on her. She got up abruptly.

"Come on, Ange. We have some work to do."

Angela nodded, got up and followed her best friend out of her office. As they walked towards the examination table, the artist couldn't help feeling rejected. She knew for a fact that something was up with her best friend and it saddened her to think that Temperance didn't trust her enough to tell her what was going on in her life, especially if it was as extraordinary as it seemed to be. She had seen the way her friend had been beaming as she had arrived at the Jeffersonian. She had seem to be floating on a cloud. Yet, she refused to admit it.

She stopped and watched as her friend and colleague climbed the stairs of the examination platform. Sadness filled her eyes and heart.

She didn't know how long she stood there but she was soon brought back to reality by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to find Jack staring at her.

"You okay?" He asked, his usual concern in his eyes.

She smiled, sadly.

"Yeah. It's just that something's up with Brennan that she's not telling me about. Something big. Really big."

Hodgins smiled.

"Dating-her-FBI-agent big?"

"Exactly that."

Hodgins squeezed her shoulder.

"Don't worry, babe. You'll figure it out sooner or later. They can't hide forever."

Kissing her quickly on the cheek, he then scanned himself onto the platform, leaving a shocked Angela behind him.

* * *

"I feel so bad, Booth. I mean, she kept asking me all day if something was going on between the two of us."

Booth swallowed his mouthful of steak.

"Then why didn't you tell her?"

"Because, Booth. You know what it would be like if we told her."

"I know."

A few minutes of silence passed. Temperance examined her surroundings. The restaurant was really beautiful and cozy. The lighting was slightly towards the dark side but she didn't mind it. The candles on the tables vaguely reminded Temperance of her romantic dinner at the cottage and she sighed happily at the thought.

She turned her attention to the other customers. All of them had come in pairs, except for maybe the group of young adults on the other side of the restaurants who had come as a group of six. Two of the adults were currently lip-locked. Temperance felt embarrassed for the other four sitting at the same table.

A young chinese couple were seated behind the large group and Temperance guessed that they were newlyweds. Beside them, an older spanish couple were engrossed in what seemed to be a very interesting conversation. They spoke quickly and their hands moved agitatedly. More couples were seated scatteredely across the restaurant.

She turned her attention back to Booth whom she found staring at her. As she looked into her eyes, her mind brought her back to two nights earlier when he had told her he loved her. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked, concerned.

"Are you mad at me?"

Booth frowned, obviously confused.

"Temperance, what are you talking about?"

Brennan looked down.

"You know, the other night... you said something."

Booth nodded.

"I remember. I told you I loved you. I meant it, if it's what you're worried about."

Temperance shook her head.

"No, that's not it. You said things that I didn't say back. I was just wondering if you were mad because I..."

"Didn't say it back?" Booth replied. "Bones, Bones, Bones."

He chuckled. Reaching over the table, he grabbed her hand in his.

"Don't worry about that. You might have not said it back but you definetely _showed_ me how you felt afterwards so it's all good. Now, if you would have simply left, maybe I would have been embarrassed. But definetely not mad."

He paused for a split second. Temperance watched as the spanish couple paid their bills, got up and walked towards the door.

"Temperance, I love you and I'm not afraid to say it. I know you might be and I respect that. That's why I won't push you into saying it until you're ready. We've had this rule all along, Bones. I'm definetely not going to change it."

Temperance smiled, feeling slightly relieved. She heard the door to the restaurant open. She had been about to reply when screams were heard from both outside and inside the restaurant.

Temperance and Booth both looked at each other before turning towards the sounds of the screams. Several people were already gathering up around the door and the two partners shot to their feet. They walked quickly towards the group.

"FBI coming through." Booth said as he pushed customers aside.

His eyes immediately fell on the two bodies laying down in big puddle of blood, only a couple of feet from the door.

"Call an ambulance!" Booth called out to whoever was listening.

Then, turning to his partner, he said:

"Give me some latex gloves. You check the woman, I take the man."

Temperance nodded. Taking out gloves from her pockets, she handed a pair to her partner.

"I can't believe you actually bring latex gloves to dinner." Booth said as he crouched beside the male victim.

"You didn't let me go home and change." Temperance replied nonchalantly as she did the same beside the female one.

Booth palped the man until he finally found a wallet in one of the pockets. Taking it out, he immediately flipped it open. The pictures of a young man and girl caught his attention.

_Probably his children._ Booth thought.

The kids didn't look much older than 17. He continued flipping through the wallet until he found what he was looking for. His heart began to race as his eyes fell on the man's name and his brain registered the meaning. He looked up at his girlfriend to find her staring back at him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concerned.

Behind them, the crowd continued to talk loudly. The distant sound of a siren could be heard somewhere in the city.

"You better take a look at this." Booth replied, seriously.

He handed the wallet over. Temperance felt her heart stopped beating for a split second. She looked down at the man then back at the name and the picture on the driver's license. There was no doubt about it. She looked back up at her boyfriend. Booth nodded.

"Roberto Mesa."

* * *

**And this is what we call a cliffhanger! _grins evilly ;-)_**


	14. Chapter 13: Damian Wright

**A/N: Same chapter... just had to repost it since there seems to be (yet again) another problem with the site and the link to the chapter wouldn't work.**

* * *

He had only been sitting there for fifteen minutes but Booth had already decided that the diner was way too bright and not as cozy and comfortable as Wong Foo's. But he didn't have a choice. It was closer to Parker's schook and so easier for Rebecca to drop him off before leaving on her business trip _and_ it happened to be a particular person's favorite hang out spot. He wasn't fond of interrogating witnesses or suspects in a public place where his son could barge in at any moment but for this man, he didn't have a choice. He needed to surprise him, to catch him off guard if he wanted to find out information about him. He knew for a fact that the man he wanted to see would come here tonight. He had asked the waitress. So he sat at a table and waited. 

Several people walked in and out of the diner. Booth was surprised at the number of people who enjoyed this place despite the lack of coziness of the place. It would obviously never become his favorite hang-out spot but he had to admit that the fries and burger in front of him were delicious.

A bell rang behind him, announcing yet _another_ customer. A gut feeling made him turn around. A tall man with brown hair and eyes and a scar running down the side of his forehead had just walked in. Booth laid down the burger back onto his plate and watched as the newcomer took what Booth thought was his usual seat at the counter. A waitress immediately brought him some coffee. The man thanked him.

Booth waited a few seconds. He watched the man slowly sip his coffee and was surprised that, for a regular, he remained quiet. The waitresses continued working, not paying attention to the man at the counter.

Booth finished his meal quickly and wiped his mouth with his napkin before getting up and walking up to the counter. He motioned to the waitress to get him some coffee before sitting down on the stool beside the man. He glanced briefly at him before announcing his presence.

"Damian Wright?"

"Yes. What can I do for you?" The man asked, turning around to the sound of the voice.

His jaw almost dropped at the sight of the federal agent he had followed all the way up to the Vermont just the past weekend. Booth smiled.

"Or should I say Robert Wilson? 'Cause you know, I'm a bit confused and I'm not sure which one to use."

The man said nothing. His jaw was clenched tightly but his eyes remained expressionless. Booth couldn't tell what the man in front of him was thinking.

A waitress, the same one who had answered Booth's questions about Wright, placed a cup of coffee in front of him. Booth thanked her. The young girl immediately disappeared in the kitchen.

Booth took a sip of his coffee, the liquid burning his throat. He grimaced.

"The coffee is always too hot here." Wright said, not looking at Booth but somehow knowing what had just happened.

Wright turned to look at Booth and the two men sat, staring at each other in complete silence, both waiting for the other to say something.

Wright broke the silence a few seconds later.

"What can I do for you, Agent Booth?" He asked, his voice suddenly edgy.

"Well you could start by telling me why you lied about your name."

Wright chuckled. He took a sip of his coffee before replying.

"I just didn't want to cause any trouble. Baker would have found that I squealed on him and would have hunted me down. So I just used a fake name."

Booth nodded, not quite sure he believed the man's story.

"You do know that it's against the law to do that and that I could arrest you right now for it, don't you?"

"I know all of that, Agent Booth. I took a chance. As I said, I just didn't want to cause any trouble."

"So I heard." Booth replied, coldly which resulted in Wright's jaw shutting tighter and his eyes growing colder.

Booth watched as the man took a deep breath, probably trying to control his anger. He made a mental note to write that down somewhere.

"Why are you here, Agent Booth?"

"Roberto and Emilia Mesa are dead." Booth replied, taking his cup in his hand.

"I know."

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"How did you find out?"

"The same way everyone did."

Booth set down his cup on the counter. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"The identities of the victims hasn't been released to the press yet. Nobody knows who they are."

Wright chuckled.

"I wasn't talking about the press. I was talking about _knowing_ about it."

Booth's face remained neutral.

"You think I killed them, don't you?" Wright asked.

"You have to admit, Damian, things are looking pretty bad for you at the moment. You claim to know about the previous deaths pretty well, you tell us that you were _there_ and that you _know _about the deaths before they are released to the press. Doesn't look too good at the moment."

Wright rolled his eyes.

"Baker sens out newsletters every time a person gets killed. I got one, we all got one. That's how I know. Baker is using this newsletter as a warning sign to the others that he is out to get them. The man is twisted."

"Why do you keep fixating on this Baker guy?"

Wright ignored him question.

"You come here often?" He asked the agent.

Booth shook his head.

"It's my first time."

Wright nodded. Taking one last sip of his coffee, he stood up.

"You should come here more often. It's a pretty nice place and the food is really good."

He dropped some money on the counter and patted Booth's shoulder before turning around. He stopped abruptly at the door, as if remembering something. He turned back to Booth.

"By the way, I meant to ask you. How did you find out that my name wasn't Robert Wilson?"

A smile tugged at Booth's lips.

"I checkd the passenger list. There wasn't any Robert Wilson on the train that day but there was a Damian Wright. I just took a chance here."

"Nice one. You're actually pretty smart for a Fed, Agent Booth. And if you're smart enough, you'll stop trying to pin me with these murders and would follow my lead about Baker."

And before Booth could say anything else, Wright stepped out of the restaurant.

* * *

The house was silent. Temperance laid down on the couch and closed her eyes. Finally, a moment of silence. Who would have known that a six-year-old, and Booth's son for that matter, could be such a handful? 

As she tried to relax, she listened to the sound of Booth walking around the house, turning off lights and picking up scattered toys across the hallway and living room. For once in her life, she felt at peace, like she belonged where she was at the moment. She tried to picture what her life would become if she'd move in with her boyfriend. It would probably be like tonight every time Parker would come over but if it would be the way it was when they were alone together, then moving in with Booth wouldn't be so hard. She smiled at the thought.

The footsteps got nearer and, seconds later, Booth had finally made his way back to the living room. Crouching down in front of his girlfriend, he kissed her forehead before moving a strand of hair out of her face.

"Tired, Honey?" He whispered, kissing her again, this time on the nose.

Temperance smiled before opening her eyes and sitting up. Booth took a seat beside her and pulled her to him.

"You never told me how it went with Wright." Temperance said after a few minutes of enjoying the feeling of security of his arms around her.

"I didn't want to talk about it in front of Parker. I prefer to wait until he's asleep." Booth replied.

"Makes sense. So, what happened?"

Temperance listened intently as Booth told her all about his conversation with Wright. It was only when he was finished that she spoke.

"Do you believe that Baker really did kill these people?"

"I don't know. I mean, Wright didn't seem too scared to squeal on Baker even though he claimed that he was. He focuses on that guy too much."

"Have you ever met murderers who did such a thing?"

"Yeah, once. In his case though, the man he squealed on turned out to be his accomplice in the murders. They both killed the victims. The man thought that he could get away with a smaller punishment if he cooperated."

"So it's possible that Wright is Baker's accomplice or the other way around?"

Booth shrugged.

"I'm just not getting this feeling, Bones. You say it and it just doesn't click for me. Come on, think about it. Wright followed us all the way up to Vermont to tell us about the murders. He changed his name, told us he was _there_, whatever that means and confesses about knowing that the Mesas are dead even though the information hasn't been released yet."

"Did Loughlin find out what happened to them?"

"I don't know. She hasn't contacted me yet. She's probably busy. Cullen asked for another autopsy of William Bingham's body."

"Why?"

"He's positive that she missed something while examining him."

"What do you think?"

"I think that the first examination Loughlin did of the bodies were thorough. All the victims died the same way: hit unconscious behind the head before being strangled to death. Even Ian Shelley's remains show that."

Temperance nodded.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Loughlin is supposed to give me her report tomorrow. I'll be meeting Paul Rutherford Thursday and I'll just ask him to tell me about the other passengers."

"Sounds like a plan."

Booth looked down at his girlfriend.

"It does. But I have another plan for us tonight." Booth replied, his voice dropping lower and his eyes turning darker.

Temperance smiled mischievously.

* * *

**Who recognized the 'meeting spot' at the beginning of the chapter?**


	15. Chapter 14: Vince Baker

**A/N: Quick message before this chapter starts. I just wanted to apologize for the long wait but my plot bunny decided he wanted to change the story around a bit since he wasn't satisfied so it may take some time before new chapters posted. Same goes for With These Eyes (it's the same bunny!). Please be patient, I will soon post another chapter for that story as well. **

**Sorry about the long chapter but it's pretty important for the story. Just like the sixth book of Harry Potter. Not much action but filled with information we REALLY needed. **

* * *

He wasn't quite sure why he was doing this. After all, he had no reason to believe that Vince Baker was in fact the serial killer ravagining through the city, killing people who had rode the same train as he had at the end of August. Yet, here he was, at Jennings Hill, retirement home of the Bakers.

He had never liked retirement homes. Seeing these elderly people, most of them sad because their family has sent them to leave in a group home rather than take care of them. He remembered his mother telling him, once, that not all of them were sad. Most of them were happy if the care provided in the group homes were good, if the staff was nice, the environment friendly and that the family came to visit often. He had been ten years old then and had been visiting his mother's grandmother at the same retirement home he was now at. Pushing the entrance door, he hoped that his mother had been right.

A receptionnist looked up. She must have been close to fifty years of age, had gray hair and green eyes sparkled under thick glasses. Booth reached over in his front pocket and took out his badge. The receptionist looked unimpressed.

"Hi. I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I called this morning. I'm here to talk to Aimée and Cain Baker."

The receptionist looked at the clock behind her.

"It's currently eleven forty-five, which means Mr. And Mrs. Baker are currently eating lunch. If you don't mind sitting down on these chairs over there, lunch should be over in twenty minutes."

Booth sighed. Did he really have a choice? The receptionist's look told him he didn't.

He took a seat and reached over for a magazine. _Nine months_. Not really in the mood to read about pregnancy, he set it back down, picked up another one (on psychology) and began flipping through it.

He was flipping through his third magazine when a voice made him look up.

"Agent Booth?"

Booth set down the magazine and got up. A tired-looking nurse was standing beside the receptionist.

"The Bakers will meet you now."

Booth nodded before following the nurse down a corridor.

He hadn't been here in close to thirty years, yet the place still looked the same. Same olive-green coloured walls, same pictures hung on the walls and Booth was pretty sure the place smelled the same. Multiple white heads turned to watch him as he followed the nurse to the Bakers. Some smiled at him, some eyed him suspiciously and Booth almost swore he had seen a woman wink at him. He didn't feel comfortable in this place and he found himself hoping that Parker would never send him to a group home when he'd be old.

The nurse led Booth to a large living room where several people, some in wheelchairs, others not, were seated at tables. Some playing cards, others doing something else. A group of four women were knitting in the far corner of the room.

"Agent Booth, this is Cain Baker and his wife, Aimée." The nurse said, coming to a stop at the second table.

Booth looked down at the two people staring at him. He wasn't quite sure how old they were but, from the way they looked, Booth would have guessed the couple were at least 80 years old.

He heard the nurse leave.

"Mr. and Mrs Baker, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I expect you were already told that I would be visiting."

"Yes, we were." Mrs Baker replied.

Her voice sounded fragile, so fragile Booth felt guilty about making her speak. But he had questions and needed answers.

"Please, sit." Mrs Baker added.

Booth smiled before sitting down. He stared out the window, hoping to find the strength to explain to this elderly couple that he was there to talk to them about his son, who might be involved in a serial murder case.

He turned and looked at the woman sitting on his right. Aimée Baker had short white hair but powerful blue eyes. Through them, he could tell that this woman had not had an easy life. Her eyes spoke of hard times. Yet, Booth was pretty sure he could detect a hint of happiness in the woman's blue orbs. Booth smiled at her. The woman smiled back.

"Mr. and Mrs Baker, I would like to ask you a few questions about your son, Vince."

"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?" Mr Baker asked.

Booth looked down at the man's hands. They were shaking slightly. Feeling the old man's eyes on him, he looked up from the table to the man's face. Just like his hands, his skin had wrinkled over the years and Booth could easily tell that man had spent most of his life working outside. His skin was heavily damaged by the sun. His brown eyes seemed empty and tired and Booth wondered if the man was sick.

"Not at the moment, no. I'm currently investigating the deaths of four train passengers. Your son was in the same train as the victims and one of the train passengers is claiming your son is the murderer."

He heard a gasp on his right. Booth's head snapped in that direction.

"And you believe him?"

Mrs Baker looked appaled. Booth tried to soothe her worries.

"I'm only doing my job, Mrs. Baker." Booth said, soothingly. "We don't know who is killing these people but the more we learn about the passengers on the train, the easier it will be to eliminate suspects."

"Vince would be incapable of killing anyone. He's the sweetest man a person could meet." Mrs Baker replied with the confidence, love and trust a mother could have.

Booth smiled.

"Tell me about your son, Mrs Baker. What does he do as a living?"

"He works as a security guard at Greenboro Mall and has been for the last seven years. Before that, he worked as a security guard in a mall down in Florida. Came back North when his father got sick."

"I had a heart attack." Mr Baker added. "My son immediately dropped his job and came back to live in Washington with us."

"Is he married? Does he have any children?"

Mrs Baker shook her head.

"No. None of those. Vince has always been to independent for marriage or children. He dreamed of having a care-free life. Children would have just tied him down."

"Any girlfriends?"

Aimée seemed to consider for a moment before shaking her head.

"No girlfriends either. He had one, maybe ten years ago. Lovely child. Her name was Rosie Carr. Sweet little angel, she was. She had a daughter, Kira, who was just as sweet as she was. They were together for six years then one day she simply left him. Later she told me it was because she was tired of being manipulated. I just think she was making up excuses. I never spoke to her again."

Booth nodded.

"Tell me about your son's childhood. Was he a good kid?"

Aimée's eyes began to glow.

"He was an adorable little boy. Never once did he get into trouble. He was always helping me around the house or helping his father. Adopting Vince was the best thing we ever did."

"Vince wasn't your biological son?"

Mrs Baker shook her head.

"We adopted him when he was three years old. We have no clue who his real parents were but we figured that since Vince had been dumped at the door of an orphanage back when he was barely a year old that his parents weren't the best of people."

"Do you have any more children?"

"Yes." Mrs Baker replied, nodding. "Two more. Clara and Ricky."

"Are Clara and Ricky your biological children?"

"There's one thing you have to understand, Agent Booth. We adopted Vince because we thought I wasn't able to have children. Believe me, we tried but without luck. So we decided to adopt. Little Vince came into our lives when Cain and I were 39 years old. We had been married for nineteen years. Then, one day, I found out I was pregnant. Vince was maybe six or seven then. Six months later, I had two beautiful babies, a little girl and a little boy."

"Was Vince ever jealous of his younger brother and sister?"

"Oh no." Mrs Baker replied, shaking her head. "Vince adored his siblings. He always wanted to help me change the diapers and feed them. I told you, Vince was the perfect little angel."

"How old are your kids now?"

"Clara and Ricky are thirty-three years old. Vince recently turned forty."

Booth nodded. Checking his watch, Booth noticed that twent minutes had already flown by. His stomach grumbled. He had only one question to ask.

"Just one more thing. Did Vince ever have any weird behavior? He seemed pretty focused on helping you take care of the family. Has he ever shown any other interests that might have seem a little odd to you?"

Mrs Baker frowned. Cain cleared his throat.

"I guess you could say he had tiny obsessions over the years. At nine years old, he was pretty focused on rocks. Every time we went to our cottage, he would go by the riverbed and collect rocks in a small cave near the cottage. His room was full of them. Aimée forced him to get ride of them when he was 10. He got mad but the next morning, when Aimée went to wake him up for school, all the rocks had disappeared. Then, when he hit 12 or 13, I can't remember, he got this obsession for flowers. He'd spend hours picking flowers with his friend, Kim. Then he'd come back home and spend a few more hours arranging them. He did that for maybe a year then stopped altogether."

"Then he wanted to join the Army, which he eventually did, as a sniper. He served close to five years in the force before finally quitting."

"Why did he quit?"

"The same reason he dropped the rock collecting and the flower picking." Cain replied, emphazasing on the flower picking. "He just got bored of it."

Booth nodded. He was beginning to understand why he hadn't wanted to come in the first place. Vince Baker was obviously not a killer. Nothing pointed to it. His obsessions had only occured during his teenagehood, just like it had happened to pretty much everybody. His parents are also seemed like a model of perfection, Baker had certainly grown up in a lovely environment. Not one favourable at molding a serial killer.

Thanking the couple, Booth began to get up when a question hit him.

"Do you know anyone going by the name of Damian Wright? Maybe a childhood friend or enemy?"

Both parents shook their heads. That's what he thought.

"There's an Elizabeth Wright who lives here as well." Aimée replied. "I think she mentioned once or twice that she had a son named Damian."

"No, Aimée, you got it all wrong. His name isn't Damian, it's Simon." Cain replied.

"No, no, no." Aimée said, shaking her head. "I'm pretty sure it's Damian."

"It's Simon."

"Damian."

"Sim…"

"You know what?" Booth said, interrupting the banter. "I'll just check it out on my own."

"You do that, Honey." Aimée replied. "And you have a safe journey back to the FBI."

Booth forced a smile.

"Thank you, Mrs Baker." He replied before heading out of the living room.

* * *

He found Elizabeth Wright doing a crossword puzzle in what Booth figured was a wannabe library. Books were set on shelves but Booth was pretty sure none of them had ever been read. The old woman looked up and Booth immediately noticed how much younger she seemed compared to the rest of her housemates. 

"Mrs Wright?"

The woman nodded.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and I work for the FBI. I just have a question to ask you. Would you happen to have a son named Damian Wright?"

The woman's eyes seemed to darken and Booth wondered if talking to her had been a good idea.

"Yes, why? Is he in some kind of trouble again?"

Booth frowned.

"Again?"

"Yes. My son is always in trouble with the law. It used to be local police but since you said you're from the FBI, I'm guessing he's in a lot more trouble than just harrassing women."

"He harrasses women?"

_Why isn't this surprising me?_

Mrs Wright sighed loudly.

"We tried, my husband and I. We tried to raise him to be a good man but seems like our efforts went down the drain. My husband passed away three years ago and Damian is the only one of our children who didn't go to the funeral."

"How many children do you have?"

"Seven, including Damian. He's the middle child, my fourth one."

"Tell me about your children. Are they all like your son?"

"Oh no." Mrs Wright replied, shaking her head. "My kids are all pretty normal. Damian has always stood out. My oldest, Rain, was the smartest. He got the best grades throughout both elementary and high school. She's now a doctor and I couldn't be more proud. Then I got Kim. She was the creative one. Paul, my third, was the musician. Always singing and playing music. He self-taught himself to play guitar. He plays in a band today. After Damian, I got Eugenie. She was my little genius, after Rain of course. She's a lawyer today. Mark, my sixth, he was my nerd, like I called him. He works with computers now, did you know? Lola, my baby girl, she was our precious little one. I was told I wasn't going to be able to have another baby after Mark yet I still got pregnant and gave birth to her. We called her our miracle child. Everybody loved her. We spoiled her rotten but she still grew up normally. She works in a day care now. She always had the touch with children. Even the pestiest ones were calm around her."

"What about Damian?"

Booth could see where the conversation was going.

"Like I said earlier, Damian _always_ stood out. My children are all beautiful but Damian, as much as I love my son, I have to say with all honesty that he wasn't. He had big ears and thick glasses. Sometimes I wonder if my husband was really the father of the baby, even though I never cheated on him in my entire life. Nobody in our family wears glasses except my father. He was blind as bat."

"Your father or Damian?"

"Both of them. Anyway, Damian was never popular at school either. They called him a nerd and a geek. I don't understand why because he wasn't _that_ good at school. His grades weren't the worst but they weren't the best either. Not like Rain's or Eugenie's. Not like anyone else in the family. He didn't like school, that's what he'd tell me. I mean, I have to understand him. Would you like school if you were always picked on by the other kids?"

Booth shook his head.

"He was always being laughed at and ridiculed. The teachers didn't do anything. I suspect them of not liking my son. Tell me, what kind of teacher doesn't like its student enough to not stop the kids from laughing at them?"

Booth shrugged.

"And you said earlier, also, that your son harrassed women?"

"Yes." Mrs Wright replied, sighing loudly. "He's always had obsessions like that. I remember when he was younger. Maybe ten or eleven. His obsession was hiding in the closet and jumping out, screaming, scaring the hell out of us. Then he got this crush on this little girl named Amy. She was always sweet to him but that was it. When he asked her out, she laughed in his face and told the entire school. I don't think Damian fully recovered from that. When he hit sixteen, he got another crush. Julie, I think her name was. My memory's not good anymore. I'm 67 years old, I'm beginning to forget stuff."

Booth nodded. 67 years old?

_She must have been young when she had had her first child_, Booth thought.

"Anyway, that's when he started acting funny and that the real trouble started. He was following her around the school, asking... no begging her to let him carry her books to her class. He waited for her outside of her dance school and offered her to walk her home. One day, she got tired of it and told her parents. The cops got involved, it wasn't funny. That was twenty years ago. My, time flies by."

"How long have you been living here, Mrs Wright?"

"Five years. I got sick and I didn't want my kids to have to worry about me. I _asked_ them to come here. They finally listened to me. It's fun here. I don't have to worry about cleaning or cooking. Everything's done for me. The people are great and so are the staff."

"I just have one more question. Do you happen to know a man named Vince Baker?"

"Vince? Of course I know him. He's Aimée's son. Such a sweet kid. Always dressed nice, always smiling. He talks to pretty much everyone here. Everybody loves him. He'll spend the entire afternoon with us, telling us stories from when he was in the army, compairing stories with the ones from here who actually fought in World War Two. He doesn't come to visit much lately. I don't think I've seen him since August. He calls his parents though, every day. He just tells them he's busy but that he should be stopping by pretty soon."

Booth thanked the woman for her time and got up. He was about to walk out of the room when Mrs Wright stopped him.

"Can you at least tell me what my son has done _now_?"

Booth slowly turned around.

"I'm currently working on a serial killer case. Victims who had rode the same train are being killed and I'm just trying to find out what happens."

"My son has all the fautls in the world but he is _not_ a serial killer, that I can assure you Agent Booth."

Booth smiled empathically at her.

"I'm just getting the background story on everybody, Mrs Wright. I'm not suspecting anything."

The woman smiled, obviously reassured.

As Booth walked out of the retirement home, he just hoped that he hadn't lied to those proud parents and that the killer, whoever he was, would not turn out to be neither of their sons. If he was, Booth thought, he would be the death of their parents.

From the depths of his pocket, Booth felt something vibrate. Fetching his cellphone, his eyes immediately went to the caller ID. A large smile instantly spread from ear-to-ear.

"Hey Baby..."

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**Guess who called?!?! Kidding. Would love to hear from you so don't be afraid to review. Tell me how I'm doing, tell me your predictions, tell me what you would like to see happen. Tell me anything, as long as it's said in a nice and calm manner. ;-)**


	16. Chapter 15: New Information

**Here is the long awaited chapter! Sorry I made you guys wait but I really had writer's block for this story. Hope you like the chapter. Don't worry if you don't remember some stuff. I do a small recap at the end of this chapter.**

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"I just think it sucks that you have to go out of town for the weekend." Booth replied as he pushed open the door to his office.

Hanging his coat on the wall, he walked over to his desk and sat down.

"It's only for two days, Booth. It's not the end of the world." He heard his girlfriend say on her side of the line. "You can call me any time you want, if you like."

"You owe me, Temperance Brennan."

He almost thought he could hear her smile through the phone.

"Monday, I'm taking the day off."

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"You? Taking a day off?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with that."

"Then why do you sound surprised?"

"Maybe because you haven't taken a single vacation in the past two years."

"I took a vacation." Temperance replied, offended. "I went to Guatemala last summer."

"Excavating remains from an old well doesn't count as a vacation, Bones."

"Anyway, if you don't want me to take the day off, I won't."

"I never said that."

"Then I'll see you Sunday night?"

"Yes. Sunday night."

After wishing her a safe trip, Booth hung up.

He sighed as he thought about the extra alone-time he would be getting over the weekend. Maybe he could get Rebecca to let him see his son for a couple of hours. He could take him out for lunch and then to the park. Checking his watch, he quickly realized it was too early to bother his ex-girlfriend at work. Sighing once more, he leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes.

A loud knock at his door startled him back to reality. The clock on his wall showed nine.

"Shit." Booth muttered, under his breath.

Rubbing his face with both hands, he just hoped his boss hadn't walked in on him sleeping for the last hour and a half. He couldn't quite understand why he was so tired lately. There was just something about this case that was draining him. Maybe it was for the lack of suspects or the numerous bodies showing up all over the city and the countryside.

Another knock reminded him of why he was awakened.

"Come in." He replied, loudly.

He watched as the door slowly opened to let a young man in. Booth frowned as the man, who looked no more than 25 years old to him with his short blond hair and small stature, entered his office.

"Hi."

"Hi." Booth replied, unsure.

"I'm Matt Larry, Ian's friend."

Booth's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Ian's name. He had spoken with the boy's friends already and he had pretty sure he had gotten them all. Yet, here was one man he had never met before, standing in his office.

Booth motioned to the newcomer to sit down. The man did so.

"I heard about Ian a couple of days ago and I came as quickly as I could."

"I already spoke to Ian's friends. None of them mentioned you."

"I was Ian's roommate for two years before he moved out on his own. We stayed in touch after he left, mostly when things got rough for him. He confided in me, told me things he would never tell his other friends. We were almost like brothers."

Booth thought he heard the young man's voice quiver. He smiled sympathetically at him.

"What kind of things did Ian tell you?"

"Lots of things." Matt replied, a small smile appearing on his face as if remembering his conversations with his friend made him happier about the whole thing. "We'd spend a lot of time talking. Everyone thought we were a gay couple, you know how people can be something. I didn't mind but I think Ian did most of the time."

Booth nodded.

"We mostly talked about school and our courses but on a few occasions Ian would talk about his feelings. I remember the night he came home, drunk, because his girlfriend had left him. I was scared for his life, he had drunk so much that night. It all turned out for the best though."

"When was the last time you spoke to Ian?"

Matt paused and frowned as he tried to remember.

"I think it was maybe four weeks ago. Ian called me because he thought..."

Matt stopped in mid-sentence, making Booth frown.

"Because he thought what?"

Matt chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, as if considering whether or not he should go on.

"One thing you have to know about Ian is that everybody liked him. He had no enemies, only friends. He liked everybody. But he was also very impulsive. Last summer, he went to visit his parents up north."

"I know. I already spoke to his parents."

"He met a girl over there. Did they tell you that?"

Booth shook his head.

"Jennifer Kellerman. A sweet girl, apparently. She was nineteen years old, very pretty. Ian sent me a picture of her over the summer. He said he thought she was the one. They came back together in Washington, they took the same train. She didn't have anywhere to stay, she moved in with him. But after a couple of days, she simply disappeared. Ian tried to call her cell but he always got her voice mail and after a while the operator told him the person was unavailable. He got worried."

"His parents told my partner and I that Ian had gone out the night he came back from Vermont."

"He did. I was supposed to meet up with him but there was a change of plans at the last minute."

"All of his friends say that is the last time they ever saw him."

"I believe it's possible. I spoke to him the morning after. I called him up to apologize for not going out with him the night before. He told me that he couldn't talk, that he knew where Jennifer was and that he was going to get her."

Booth frowned.

"What do you mean he knew where Jennifer was?"

Matt shrugged.

"He didn't tell me anything else. He sounded in a hurry. He said he didn't have time to talk and that he would call me back that night. He never did but I figured it was because he had found his girlfriend and wanted to spend time alone with her."

"Didn't you find it weird that Ian never called you back?"

Matt shook his head.

"We could go weeks sometimes between conversations. I didn't worry. I figured that he was simply busy with school and his new girlfriend. If only I had known..."

"And Ian never mentioned where he was going?"

Something flashed in the young man's eyes that told Booth there was still something the man hadn't told him.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

Matt nodded.

"After Ian came back from Vermont, we met up somewhere to catch up. He seemed edgy and his eyes kept darting from left to right. Out of nowhere he grabbed my arm and told me to look five tables away from where we were sitting in the food court at the mall. I turned around to see a man with dark brown hair. Ian told me he had seen that man in the train on the way back from Vermont and that he simply kept showing up wherever he went."

"Did Ian know his name?"

"No. He just told me that the man had taken the same train as him, that he had been asleep the whole way down and hadn't spoken to anybody for the whole ride."

"Do you have any reasons to believe that the man could have murdered your friend?"

Matt shrugged.

"Not really. Until this morning, that thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I don't remember what he looked like. All I remember is that he was sitting at the table, reading his newspaper and glancing around every now and then as if he was waiting for someone."

"Jennifer Kellerman. You said that she was Ian's girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"And she disappeared?"

"Yes." Matt replied, a little harsher than he had intended to. "Look, it's all I can tell you. I don't know anything else other than what Ian told me."

Booth smiled politely at him.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

Both men got to their feet. Booth walked over to the other side of his desk and opened the door. Shaking hands with the young man, he waited until the student had stepped inside the elevator at the other end of the room before closing the door.

Sitting back down at his desk, Booth rummaged through his folders until he found the Amtrak listing. He turned to the page where he had first found Ian Shelley's name.

_Ronaldo Mesa, seat B1. Emilia Mesa, seat B2. Hannah Kennan, seat B3. Ian Shelley, seat B4._

Loughlin had taken the Mesa case as well. A first examination had told them the couple had been shot from a distance, each of them hit with only one bullet. The shot had been precise and Booth's guts and life experience had immediately told him the rest: the Mesas had been killed by a sniper.

Hannah Kennan had been found in a dumpster, hit behind the head by a blunt object before being strangled to death. No other signs of struggle or injuries had been found on her body.

Ian Shelley, his remains found in a ditch just outside of Washington. With Matt's side of the story, Booth now had a reason as to what Ian was doing out so far from the city. He tried to picture the scenery. There had been a field but no buildings in the area. Was it possible that Ian had never gotten to where his girlfriend supposedly was?

_Jennifer Kellerman, seat B5. __Damian Wright, seat B6. Paul Rutherford, seat B8. Vince Baker, seat B10. Theresa Bingham, seat B11. William Bingham, seat B12._

Jennifer Kellerman, MIA.

Damian Wright, the man that had given him a fake name. Was he the one doing all these killings? Was he going to be the next victim?

Paul Rutherford. He had nothing on him. Booth knew he ought to start looking for the man, maybe even put him in a security house for the time being, until he caught at least whoever was committing the murders. The thought that maybe Rutherford could be a suspect suddenly struck him. So much for the protection.

Vince Baker, the man who was supposedly behind all this madness, if he believe Damian Wright of course. But after talking to the man's parents, Booth wasn't inclined to believe that Baker could be a serial killer. His parents and Damian's mother had spoken so highly of him that Booth had a hard time conceiving that he was killing for the pure pleasure of it.

The Binghams, both of them dead. One staged suicide, the other from strangulation.

The other names, in the C seats, meant nothing to him. Putting the papers back into the folder, Booth sighed. For a split second, he allowed himself to miss his girlfriend. Working on cases without her seemed so dull. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned to his computer.

First order of business: finding Paul Rutherford.


End file.
